


For Love

by moonbeambucky



Category: Alternate Universe - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel AU - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Smut, royal au, royal!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeambucky/pseuds/moonbeambucky
Summary: Being the princess never stopped you from pushing the boundaries of the rules of your land. Now you are being forced to find a prince to marry but instead meet a commoner. Will you do what’s best for your kingdom or follow your heart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted on tumblr for @a-splash-of-stucky Elsa's 1k Celebration. My prompt was a Royal/Medieval AU. This fic takes some inspiration from Aladdin.

The morning sunlight gently kissed your eyelids as it peered in through the stained glass window. The scent of fresh lilacs filled your bedchamber gently stirring you awake. Every morning was the same, you woke up rather slowly, not very eager to commence yet another monotonous day.

Wanda quietly entered your room to help dress you, though you only needed her assistance to lace the awful corset you had to wear. It was frowned upon by some on how close you were to your handmaid but you never saw her as a servant, she was your best friend. She had come to the castle at a young age when her mother began working in the kitchens. She was a curious girl who quickly learned your castle’s secrets, the hidden passageways for servants to tend to their duties, seldom being seen by the royal family or other noblemen.

One day you stumbled upon one of the passageways, finding yourself lost. Wanda heard your cries of distress and helped you find your way back. Your governess balked at the sight of you playing with a peasant girl, but all you saw was a friend. As a child being a Princess was a privilege you did not fully understand, and when you were told you could no longer see Wanda you did the only rational thing you knew, protest. To be fair it was more of a tantrum, arguing and pleading with your parents, threatening to denounce your title if it meant you could not be friends with Wanda. They gave in, much to the dismay of your father’s adviser.

You continued to test the limits, insisting that Wanda join in on your studies, knowing she would not otherwise have an opportunity to learn to read and write. Your governess enforced a strict and grueling study schedule, making you wonder if it was payback for “degrading” her by educating Wanda.

It was expected of you as Princess and future ruler of your lands to be well versed in many subjects, spending countless hours learning your kingdom’s history, focusing on the Great War many years ago with the Kingdom of Hydrana.

With many years of schooling and observing your father’s small council you felt more than prepared to handle the responsibility of a Queen. Despite your years of pushing boundaries there was one rule you could not break. The law stated that a female heir could only inherit the crown if she were to marry a Prince. Your twenty-first name day was approaching and in preparation your father invited many kingdoms to a grand ball, in hopes you would find a suitor.

Wanda stood behind you watching you styling your hair at a vanity table.

“Y/N are you sure? If someone comes in and I’m not doing my job I…” Wanda nervously rambled.

“Wanda I am the Princess! Nothing shall happen to you. You are my handmaid in title only, you know I hate the idea of servants,” you said, holding a twisted section of hair at the back of your head as your other hand grabbed a clasp.

“You’re unlike other princesses Y/N.” You smiled at her comment through the reflection of the mirror. “But perhaps it would be worth the labor if it meant I would no longer have to hear your snoring every morning,” she quietly joked, holding on to fear if anyone heard her speak out of line.

You stuck your tongue out at her, making a face as you both laughed. Yet the mirth quickly faded as you watched Wanda compose herself, physically wiping her smile away to a more appropriate neutral expression. It broke your heart that Wanda had to fear being herself, and all because of the rules.

“What are you going to wear tonight?” she asked, grazing her hands along a variety of fabrics in your wardrobe.  
“Does it even matter? Father wants me to choose someone to marry but I do not believe I’ll be able to,” you said, letting your head drop down with a sigh. “How does he expect me to choose a husband without getting to know them? One dance at a ball will not tell me anything.”

Wanda watched as you stood up to pace around your bedchamber. “I wish to know what their subjects think of them, if they are kind. How they would rule my kingdom.”

You gasped in disgust, someone else was going to rule  _your_  kingdom. You were perfectly capable of ruling on your own if not for the unfair and foolish rules.

* * *

Guests of the ball were beginning to arrive. You were dressed in a beautiful silk gown, a dark burgundy with gold detailing. A large jewel hung from a chain around your neck, sitting near your now ample cleavage thanks to the corset that constricted your breathing. You entered a sitting room as you waited for your father to make your entrances together in the great hall.

Gazing around the paintings of the room your eyes stopped at one of your mother, wistfully staring at the face you missed so much. Your gaze was broken by the sound of your father in the midst of a coughing fit.

“Father you are unwell,” you stated, getting up towards him as you placed the back of your hand on his forehead.  
“It’s nothing my dear, just a tickle in my throat. You needn’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

You stood beside him as you were introduced to arriving guests, visitors from the kingdoms of Sokovia, Latveria and even as far as Wakanda. The ball itself was lovely, filled with beautiful music and dancing but you would be lying if you think about of asking everyone to leave, proclaiming your objection to the rules and causing a probably commotion.

Instead, you pushed your thoughts aside and graciously spoke with your guests. At the encouragement of your father you made small talk with potential suitors, forcing your aching cheeks to continue smiling as you feigned interest in the dull conversations. You tried desperately to convince yourself of a connection, stretching the truth in your mind that there were the dimmest sparks between you and one of them but there simply wasn’t.

Excusing yourself you went to the balcony, overlooking the castle gardens. Leaning over the railing you focused on the soft glow of the moonlight reflected from a still pond. The gently breeze caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin; you were chilly but comfortable, listening to the peaceful symphony of crickets.

“Always running off Y/N,” your father spoke. You glanced behind you, giving him a slight smile as he approached, muttering “I wish,” quietly under your breath.

He placed his hand on your shoulder, “What’s wrong my dear?”  
“I do not want this father. Why must I wed a stranger?” you said, balling your hands into tight fists, “This is my home, I am fit to rule on my own!” you declared, passionately waving your hands around as you spoke.

“These are the rules Y/N. Your mother and I were arranged and we grew to love each other,” he tried to reason.  
“That’s a chance I do not wish to take. If I’m to marry I want to do it for love. I wish to break the rules!” you shouted.

Your father began to cough again, wheezing and desperate to catch his breath. You were pained with guilt, wishing you hadn’t raised your voice.

“Your Majesty,” a soft voice spoke. It was Lord Pierce, your father’s most trusted adviser and head of the Royal Council. “Do come inside. I shall fetch a chalice of mulled wine to aide you.”

Clearing his throat your father agreed, asking you to follow, “We musn’t keep our guests Y/N.”

You nodded your head in defeat, taking one last inhale of the crisp night’s air. The trumpeting sound of swan calling out caught your attention. You watched as it took flight from the pond, flapping its large wings away from the castle; you were longing for a similar freedom.

“Your Highness?” Lord Pierce called for you.

You walked back towards the castle, turning the corners of your mouth up into a cheery fake smile as you passed over the threshold.

The next morning you quickly jumped out of bed, waiting for Wanda in your night dress as you sat on the edge of the bed, your left leg shaking with anxious anticipation. She entered the room with a gasp, not expecting to see you awake and with a strange look on your face.

“Wanda, I want to leave the castle.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you mad?” Wanda blurted out, tilting her head in confusion upon hearing your request.

With excited passion you had explained how you wished for her to sneak you out of the castle and into the village.

“Y/N have you been spending time with the hatter or have you been drinking too much wine? Do you not realize how much of a bad idea this is?” she continued to sarcastically question.

“Wanda…”

“Your father would kill you– no, he’ll kill  _me_! He’ll have that brute of a guard Sir Rumlow drag me to the gallows if they found out!”

Wanda shook her head back and forth, her hands were up defensively as she frantically paced around your bedchamber, babbling on about what could go wrong.

“Wanda please!” you shouted, stopping her in her tracks. “I haven’t been outside the castle walls since, well since mother died.”

She huffed and sat beside you upon hearing the sorrow in your voice. Taking your hand into her lap she ran comforting strokes along it with her thumb.

“You know how protective father became of me, I just…” you sighed deeply before continuing, feeling the weight of your next words sitting like a heavy stone on your chest, “I feel like a prisoner, always being told what to do, what to wear, who to marry!” you stressed, as tears began to flow freely down your face.

“This is why I’m asking for your help. I just want be free for one day before I must resign myself to the path of a life I do not wish to live,” you said with a plea of desperation.

Wanda chewed the inside of her cheek as she wrestled with her decision. She studied your face, observing the sincerity sketched within your eyes and the sorrow that tugged your mouth into a frown.

She agreed to help you, not as your handmaid but as your best friend. Your face lit up with joy as you threw your arms around her for an excited embrace. Wanda smiled half-heartedly as she still felt torn; the feeling of unease established itself prominently in the pit of her stomach.

It was decided that Wanda would send word that you were feeling unwell today and wished to remain in your bedchambers undisturbed. She hid a bundle of clothing under her dress for you, taken from the servant’s sleeping quarters.

You unraveled the musty smelling fabrics, changing your attire into a long sleeved off-white tunic dress with tattered ends, securing your bust with a faded blue lace front bodice with a long apron. You laced up soft leather boots and concealed yourself with a dark brown cloak.

The sun was at the highest point in the sky, this meant your father would currently be spending the better part of his day with Lord Pierce holding court but it also signified the start of your plan. Wanda pulled you into the secret passageway from your bedchamber, swiftly dragging you through the maze of tunnels within your castle. She carried a lantern in front of her to help guide the way. Though she had committed the route to memory the pathway would be very dark and the last thing she wanted was for you to acquire any questionable injuries that would blow your cover.

The sound of muffled voices startled you as the barrier was considerably thinner along this stretch of passageway. Wanda encouraged you to move quietly as she continued to lead the way. Your lungs took a deep inhale of the spices and herbs wafting through the passageways near the kitchens.

It was obvious she had great knowledge of the tunnels and you felt a little jealous, inadequate even, believing that you too should know the secrets of your castle. You ran your hand along the cool bricks of the narrowing tunnel. The salt of the moat was thick in the air as drops of water leaked from above. Wanda explained you were beneath your castle’s protective body of water and nearing your exit.

The ground gradually began to rise until you were practically crawling on your knees. You bumped your head on the surface above you, letting out a quick hiss of pain as you rubbed the tender spot on your head. You saw a sliver of daylight ahead. Wanda blew out the lantern and left it inside the tunnel. She crawled and pushed her way out of a small opening, gripping the grass before her for leverage until she was out. She wiped her hands on her dress before reaching in to help pull you out.

You stumbled forward, catching your breath as you stood up, looking behind you to see where the tunnel had let out. It looked like an ordinary burrow, a fox den perhaps, unassuming to a passerby who would never question otherwise. You could see the castle in the distance beyond the trees. You weren’t very far into the forest but you relished in the fact that you were beyond the castle walls, free.

Wanda brushed the dirt off of your dress, apologizing for the mess you were subjected to, though she didn’t have to. You quickly reminded her to curb her instincts as handmaid, you were a commoner today. You quietly walked along with her until you found the main path, a dusty dirt road where the grass had given up its attempts on growing due to the constant traffic of people and horse alike.

The sounds of life in the village became louder as you saw cottages in the distance with smoke billowing from the chimneys. You squealed with excitement as you gripped Wanda’s arm. It was difficult to subdue the wide grin that kept settling on your face. You had less control over your eyes, they crinkled with delight as you locked stares with the many passing faces.

Walking through the village with giddiness in your step you observed the common folk, people were bustling in and out of small shops with their purchases of fresh meats or new linens. Boisterous laughter poured out from the tavern and a tired mother was shouting at her energetic child to come back to her side. You observed everything that was happening around you with bright eyed wonder.

“I’ll go into the bake house and get us something to eat. Stay here,” Wanda said before entering the crowded shop.

You listened to her request for a few moments before wandering over to a canopied cart and scanning the fresh fruits for sale. Your stomach rumbled at the sight of the shining red currants and the sweet smell of oranges. You looked towards the shop but Wanda had not returned.

You’re suddenly panicked as you felt something bump into you, looking down you see it was a small boy. His clothes were tattered and dusty, his dark ginger hair was sticking in every way and the dirt on his cheeks seemed to accentuate his gaunt face.

You bent down to speak with him at eye level, “Are you lost?” He shook his head no. “Are you hungry?” He vigorously shook his head up and down. “Let us fix that, shall we?” you asked, though it was more of a statement.

You took a few apples and a quince to hand over. He held the hem of his tunic up into a makeshift basket. You grabbed a melon but child ran away, the look of fear prominently displayed in his eyes as he took off before you could hand him the large fruit.

“I hope you intend to pay for that,” commented a rough deep voice. A man appeared from behind the stand, short and wide with a large belly protruding from his tunic. His forehead was creased with tension as his teeth clenched into an irritated grin.

“I don’t have any money,” you said, thinking how that was a half lie. You  _have_  money, the treasury is full of coin and gold, you just didn’t have any money with you. 

“If you just wait until…” you began to say, but the merchant did not want to hear it. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your body to lean roughly over the table.  
“Do you know what the punishment for stealing is?” he rasped.

You began to panic, babbling as you begged him to listen to you while his free hand searched the table for a dagger. He held the blade above his head, your eyes shut tight as you tried to brace yourself for what was about to happen.

“Henry stop!” another man shouted. “What are you doing?”

You looked up to see a man with long brown hair standing beside you. He shifted his gaze to you and winked, flashing a beautiful smile.

“This wench stole from me!” Henry replied.  
“She didn’t mean to, you see I have her satchel. She left it at the inn. I was just returning it to her,” the kind stranger lied. “How much does she owe?”

Henry let go of your wrist, you rubbed the pain away as he was given coins by the stranger. You took a closer look at your savior, he was tall and broad, his muscular form tested the seams of his leather jerkin while his breeches made no attempts to hide his thick legs.

“Come my lady,” he said. You walked beside him, quickly keeping up the pace as he distanced you from Henry’s fruit stand. “You really need to work on your thieving,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t mean to steal, I…” you were careful with your words, “This is my first time in the village. Thank you again Sir…”

You were face to face with him as you awaited his name, mesmerized by the beautiful blue of his eyes, his plush pink lips and dark stubble that barely hid his sharp jaw line.

“My name is James but I am no Sir,” he laughed. “However you may call me Bucky, it’s what my friends do,” he replied.   
“Am I your friend?” you asked, candidly flirting as the electric feeling of freedom coursed through your veins.  
“I would like you to be,” Bucky replied, his voice exuding a huskier tone, as he stared at you with a confident smile, raising his eyebrows up for emphasis.

Your eyes slowly gazed at his lips, his tongue slipped out to wet them as his eyes never faltered looking at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you… Bucky,” you said, smirking as you made him wait a moment before speaking his name.

Bucky tipped his head down, peaking up through his dark eyelashes, “Might I have your name my lady?” he asked, flashing that bright smile once more.  
All of your grace and charm dissipated as his question caught you off guard, “Uhh, my name…is…”

You hadn’t thought of what you should be known as while you were in the village. You obviously could not go by your title, nor your given name to avoid suspicion. All your years of studying were a waste as your brain could not remember a single name that was not your own. Your eyes darted around in panic before catching sight of an array of purple wildflowers growing beside you.

“Violet,” you answered, clearing your throat to speak with more confidence, “My name is Violet.”

“Well Lady Violet, if you wish to thank me please join me for a drink at the inn. I would love to know more about the strange girl who steals in broad day,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

Every part of you wanted to go with him but you remembered Wanda who would undoubtedly be in distress if you were not where she left you. Bucky escorted you back to the bakeshop where Wanda stood near tears as she spoke to a bearded man with dirty blonde hair.

“Hello Wanda,” you squeaked, cautiously walking near her.  
“Oh my heavens!” she cried, throwing her arms around you. “Where were you? I told you not to run off!”  
“My apologies Wanda, I had a bit of trouble but this kind man helped me,” you said nudging your chin towards Bucky.

“Helping huh Buck?” the man smirked, grasping a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“If a beautiful maiden is in need I am always there to help,” he said, winking at you. “Lady Violet,” he continued as Wanda side-eyed you upon hearing your false name, “Let me introduce you to my good friend Steven.”

You curtsied, much to the dismay of Wanda, who hadn’t told you all of the subtleties you should be aware of when posing as a commoner. Clearing your throat, “This is Wanda my friend who I’m afraid I gave a bit of a fright,” you glanced over at her with an apologetic grin. “And we must be going.”

“And what of that drink?” he asked.  
“Honestly  _Violet_ , I could use one now,” Wanda said in a huff.

The four of you went to the tavern, sitting at a small table in the back corner near the crackling fireplace. The men brought small flagons of ale to the table, with Bucky sitting close beside you.

You were excited to be in the tavern, taking a gulp of the smooth liquid that went down easily, leaving a hint of fruit on your tongue. It was nice to see Wanda enjoying herself. You know how hard she works, being ordered around by mostly everyone except you. It seems she needed this break as much as you did.

She and Steven were engaged in a friendly discussion that seemed to leave you and Bucky out. Bucky wiped his ale soaked lips with the back of his hand, and turned towards you.

“Where are you from my lady?” he asked.  
“I have lived here all my life.”  
“Then how is it you’ve never been in the village before?” he said loudly, competing with the busy sounds of the tavern.

You gulped down the rest of your ale in order to stall as you thought of an excuse.

“I know your secret my lady,” he said with a smirk. Your face was stricken with fear, eyes widening, as the rapid beating of your heart was the only sound you could hear.   
“What? I… there’s no secret…” you stuttered, doing a horrible job of lying.

He shifted himself closer to you, leaning his head down to your ear, “You work in the castle,” he said, as you felt his hot breath tickle your ear. “I’m certain of it. Servants are unable to speak the details of their work for the King and Princess.”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and smile, tipping your head down to catch your breath. Though you didn’t confirm his suspicion, you didn’t deny it either, choosing not to continue the subject. It was loud in the tavern but still, you didn’t want your voices to carry to the sea of commoners who may not be as kind as Bucky and Steven.

“Let us not speak of it then,” you replied, offering an uncertain smile.

You changed the subject, wishing to learn more about Bucky. His mother died when he was young, and his father was unable to keep up with their mill. He sold the land for some money, enough to invest in the trade business. At a young age Bucky took an apprenticeship with the blacksmith while his father travelled from village to village and other kingdoms selling goods.

Bucky met Steven during his apprenticeship and they have been inseparable since. They still work together in the Blacksmith’s shop though Steven yearns to be a knight in the Royal Guard. Bucky is highly skilled though he shies away from the praise.

“The man with the metal arm. That’s how he’s known here,” Steven interjected.   
“Your father must be proud,” you said.

Bucky’s lips curved into a frown, “He was. He died not long ago,” he lamented.

Upon hearing the sorrow in his voice you reached your hand over to his, offering a sign of comfort. “I’m so sorry Bucky.”

“On a journey home he found fragrant yellow flowers. Mother liked flowers and he would always bring them back for her so he picked a bunch out of habit. Whenever he returned he would like to settle in with a warm cup of cider. I…I was supposed to have made some.”

Bucky’s voice became increasingly unsteady as he continued to speak. You began rubbing your arm along his arm, watching intently as he struggled to get through his story.

“He made a tea from the flowers instead but it made him sick. His throat was rough, he could not hold his food. He… It was when the blisters erupted around his mouth I had to do something. I went around our village to the next and all the way to Sokovia looking for a cure. By the time I found it… it was too late.”

Bucky finished his drink, hanging his head low in grief. You knew all too well how he felt, believing for a long time that you were the cause of your own mother’s death.

_The royal carriage entered through the barbican, your mother was home from a long visit to Wakanda. You stood in the courtyard beside your father at the end of a line assembled of noblemen and the Royal Guard. A footman opened the carriage door and you ran out from the line, grabbing the fabric of your mother’s gown before her feet touched the stone slabs below._

_Your arms wrapped around her legs as you cried tears of joy for her return. Her hands pushed you away by your shoulders and for a moment you worried if she was upset, you knew your governess was mentally chastising you for running to the carriage, this was no way a young Princess should behave._

_Your mother knelt down, her kind eyes smiled back at you as she lifted you into her arms. She covered you in a warm embrace, as she told you of how much she loved and missed you. You often think about this moment, where she was acting not as Queen but as a loving mother._

_She continued to hold you as she greeted everyone who bowed in her presence. She wobbled as she approached your father. He told her to put you down but you cried out, not wanting her to. Your mother insisted she was merely tired from the travel._

_The Royal Guard followed behind as you father walked with your mother back to their bedchambers, while you clung to her asking an assortment of questions nonstop, in the way only a young child could. With every question she answered her speech became slower. It wasn’t until you were on the floor that you realized what had happened._

_You cried, hugging your knees to your chest as your father screamed out for help. She was unconscious, lifted into bed while members of the Guard ran to get the physician. She died that night. Her heart was weak, something you learned after she passed, but at the time all you did was blame yourself._

“It wasn’t your fault. Bucky,” you said, gently lifting his chin and turning his face to you, “It wasn’t your fault,” you repeated with firm compassion. He tipped his head, giving you a small smile in return.

After the third round of drinks Wanda insisted you had to leave. Bucky and Steven stood up to say goodbye, first to Wanda. You bid farewell to Steven before turning to Bucky with a bittersweet smile. It was wonderful to have met him; he’s kind and funny, strong and sensitive, and you couldn’t deny his looks.

“It was lovely to-” you began but Bucky spoke at the same time, “I wish to see you again.” You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, blushing as he continued, “My lady, will you be able to meet me tomorrow?”

“I, I’m not sure when I may be able to leave again,” you replied, admitting the truth for once. 

Bucky frowned at your statement but he understood. “You must promise to see me the next time you are in the village. Find me in the Blacksmiths’ shop. Look for the shield that hangs atop the building.”

Bucky grabbed your hand, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “I-I will,” you stuttered, breathless at his actions. 

You pulled your cloak over your head as Wanda looped her arm through yours to head back. You turned back towards Bucky, smiling once more before disappearing into the winding road through the trees.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day you woke up before the sun arose. The truth is you hardly slept. Wanda led you safely back to your room where she nearly smothered you with a pillow for shouting as you jumped with glee on your bed. The only words on your lips were of Bucky, gushing about how charming and handsome he was. She insisted you drank too much ale, forcing you into bed before she left for her own sleeping quarters. You were drunk on something, on the memory of his breath electrifying your senses, on the sparkling blue of his eyes, on the warmth his lips left on your skin.

Wanda entered your room to find you sitting at your vanity brushing your hair, the drifted look in your eyes gave away the fact that you were daydreaming. She cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“Oh, Wanda, good morning,” you cheerily said. “Can we go back today?”

Wanda gulped as her fear came true. She had hoped you would be satisfied with yesterday’s journey but by the way you carried on about Bucky she had a feeling you wouldn’t let this go.

“Y/N no! It was dangerous enough to go once!” she exclaimed.  
“Wanda please, I wish to see B-”

Wanda ran to you and covered your mouth with her slender fingers. “Shhhh don’t even say his name. If anyone finds out do you know what they’ll do to me? Please you have to let this go!” she pleaded.

“No.” Your stern reply matched the seriousness of your expression.

Part of her knew this was coming. She regretted giving in to you in the first place, but now that you know what’s out there, or more like who is out there, it would be even more difficult to stop you.

“You can’t today. You are to sit in with your father and Lord Pierce to discuss the Kingdom, remember?”

You groaned, recalling the near fight you had with your father insisting you attend his weekly meetings. “Then afterwards.”  
“Y/N, it isn’t safe,  _please_  reconsider,” she begged.  
“If you don’t come with me I’ll go alone. Would that be safe?” you questioned, cocking your head to the side as you wore a sarcastic smirk.

“You don’t know the way,” she retorted, hoping that would discourage you.  
“You’re right Wanda I don’t know the way, so I’d hate to see what would happen to the person who let the Princess get lost within castle walls.”

Wanda’s mouth dropped at your words. You fought to keep your smirk; you were acting like a stubborn child and you didn’t like it. This wasn’t who you were. Threatening your best friend and worse, using your rank against her.

“Fine. We’ll go later,” she muttered.

Wanda ripped the brush from your hand, slamming on the vanity table. Tension filled the air as you dressed in silence, wanting to apologize for your terrible behavior but unable to muster up the courage. Wanda clenched her jaw tight as she laced your corset with more force than necessary.

“Wanda!” you yelped in pain.

She loosened the fastening and quietly stepped out of the room when she was finished.

You sighed partly in frustration and sadness, wishing you had apologized to her, regretting even more so that you had a reason to. Doubts filled your head along your walk to the council chambers.

Were you mistaken? Should you risk everything for a man you just met? It’s wrong to have asked so much of Wanda, to yell at her? Your head hung low, feeling as heavy as your heart. What kind of Queen would you be if this is the way you treat your friends?

* * *

Your father squinted his eyes in displeasure at your tenth yawn. You apologized, reminding him and Lord Pierce that you were not fully recovered from your (faux) illness yesterday. They discussed the matters brought up at court the day before, with your father instructing Lord Pierce to prepare letters and proclamations for him to sign.

You fought to keep your eyes open, the lack of sleep combined with Lord Pierce’s monotonous tone did not help. It wasn’t until mention of the village that you perked up.

“How is our village? Are we doing all that we can to ensure the people living there are well?” you chimed in.  
“Lord Pierce informs me that all is well in the kingdom, including our village,” your father responded.  
“Are you certain of this? We have many villagers, how are we to be certain there are not starving children living in the alleyways?” you challenged.

Both your father and Pierce cocked their heads at your impassioned interest.

“There has been no need for an increase on taxes and the villagers have been thriving under our King’s excellent rule,” Pierce said, nodding at your father who gave a small smile in return. “We cannot keep watch over ever beggar child whose family mismanaged their household.”

“So says a Lord who will never worry about such misfortune,” you scoffed.  
“So says a Princess,” he snapped back.

Your jaw clenched upon hearing his tone. There was fire in your eyes when you replied, “At least I care! If even one villager is hungry or without a home we must do something to help!”

“Princess, why are you suddenly concerned with the village?” Pierce said, raising his eyebrows up as he waited for an answer.  
“If I am to be queen it is my duty to know my village and how we may improve upon the quality of life for my people,” you said, smirking at him. “Father what do you think?” you began to ask as you looked towards him.

You hadn’t realized his commentary was absent during your argument with Lord Pierce. His eyes were blocked by the back of his hand, his forehead leaning into his palm while his other arm was slung across his belly, gripping it with firm pressure.

“Father are you alright?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.  
“My stomach is tense my dear, much like your discussion with Lord Pierce,” he chuckled and then winced in pain. “We shall continue this on the morrow.”

* * *

You took your dinner early, your father had skipped his own, choosing to rest his unsettled stomach. When you finished you took out your commoner clothes that were hidden in your wardrobe, changing quickly as you anxiously waited for Wanda. The moment she entered the room you stood up quickly and walked towards her.

“I’m so sorry Wanda. I was awful this morning, truly awful. I hope you’ll forgive me,” you said.

She let out a sob which broke your heart. You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing circles on her back for comfort.

“Y/N I just don’t want you to get hurt. Sneaking out is dangerous but I saw the way you looked at him. What’s going to happen when you have to marry some prince, huh?” she cried.  
“I know,” you sighed. “I know it’s wrong but I just… there’s something about him Wanda. I can’t let it go, not yet.”

The corners of your lips pulled up into a knowing smile, appreciating the love and concern she had for you.

“I forgive you Y/N, but please mind your heart,” she offered, hugging you back.

She wiped away stray tears from her cheek before motioning to follow her. As Wanda took you through the winding passageways you played a game in your head, trying to guess the next direction to take. Considering you had only made this journey once your guesses weren’t half bad. It was only within the castle walls that there were several passageways to choose from, after that you simply followed the path until it lead you outside.

The sun painted the sky in a warm gold as it was setting, casting a glow on the familiar buildings of the village. You and Wanda walked around until you found the stone building that was set back amongst the trees. A silver shield was reflected by the glow of a hanging lantern but the unmistakable sound of metal clanking against itself cemented the fact that you were in the right spot.

Taking down your hood you anxiously groomed your hair into place before knocking on the heavy door, feeling the warmth that radiated from the building heat your cheeks. When no one answered you walked around the building. There was an open workspace, covered by the roof with lanterns hanging on the support beams.

Steven was there, bare-chested and chopping logs with an axe. His muscular body was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he split the wood, piling the halved pieces along the wall for the stone fireplace. Wanda called out to get his attention.

“My ladies!” he exclaimed, not expecting your smiling faces to be standing before him.

You offered a small wave as he finished stacking the logs. Grabbing his tunic he used it to wipe the sweat from his reddened face.

Steven approached you both, “My apologies, I cannot give you a proper hello.” He smiled, continuing to wipe the sheen from his solid frame.

“Nonsense,” Wanda said, pulling him into a hug. Wanda took no issue with his appearance, and so you took it in stride as Steven greeted you, pulling you close to his dirt covered body.

Wanda let out a chuckle upon seeing the grimace on your face that you so desperately tried to hide.

“Bucky will be delighted to see you,” he softly spoke, fanning the flames of your already blushed cheeks.

Steven escorted you and Wanda into the workshop. Bucky was engrossed in his task, hammering away at steel, red hot and malleable as he shaped it into a sword. The tendrils of his long brown hair framed his face, with stray hairs sticking to his glistening forehead.

You surmised his tunic was once a bright white before it had aged from wear, creating countless weapons. Leather gauntlets protected his arms below his elbows, with a leather apron protecting the front of his broad body.

Steven shouted loudly, getting Bucky’s attention and he nearly dropped his hammer. A smile crossed his face as he looked up to see you standing with your arms folded delicately in front of you. The glow of the fire from the coal furnace highlighted your beautiful features, the embers sparkled in your eyes, shining back at him.

“You’re here,” he excitedly said.

Placing the hammer down he walked to an adjacent table, grabbing a metal pitcher filled with water and poured it over his hands. He wiped them dry with a rag, now blackened from the dirt he washed away. Bucky walked towards you, taking your hand in his own. The water cooled had his calloused palms; they felt perfect, rough and soft at the same time and you never wanted them to part with yours.

He brought your knuckles up to his lips, holding your gaze as he placed a kiss to them just as he did the night before, “I did not expect my wish to be granted so soon, my lady.”  
“Nor did I,” you admitted, blushing. “I wish to thank you, properly, for your help in the market yesterday. I believe it is I who owes you a drink now.”

You had asked the Lord Chamberlain for his discretion when he gave you a satchel of coins. Lord Coulson was practically an uncle to you, and despite his position in managing the castle finances he trusted you enough to not ask questions of why you would be in need of money. In return, he asked for your time privately to discuss some matters he did not yet wish to trouble your father with.

“I would like that very much,” Bucky said. “Anthony!” Bucky shouted towards a doorway.

An older man with dark hair framing his mouth appeared in the door frame, arms crossed over his dark tunic, “Yes your majesty?” he joked.

“Would you mind completing this sword for me? Just the once,” Bucky asked, the sense of desperation was obvious in his voice.

Anthony squinted his eyes as he stared at you from across the room. Your heart began to race, was this a knowing look? He was older than Bucky, perhaps his years have given him the knowledge to know who you truly are.

“No, not for you,” he replied, serious in tone. “But I will for her,” Anthony said, smiling and playfully winking.  
“Thank you Anthony, I owe you,” Bucky said, removing his apron and leaving it on the table.

He grabbed your hand again and began to escort you out. Making a sound of frustrating realization he turned around, “I forgot, Barton needs arrows, would you be able to…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anthony waved his hand, “They don’t call me the iron man for nothing,” he said, smirking as he resumed Bucky’s work.

Bucky continued leading you outside, where you had only then realized Wanda and Steven had been for some time.

“The tavern?” Steven asked.  
“Yes, we’ll meet you there,” Bucky told him. “My lady, I wish to change into clean clothing. My home is but a small walk away.”

You nodded at Wanda, a silent signal that you would be alright alone with Bucky. The walk to Bucky’s stone cottage was indeed quick. You made quick conversation with him, once again repeating how happy you were to see each other again.

Lighting a candle, Bucky took you inside his home and it was unlike anything you had ever seen. No, that’s a lie. When you were younger Wanda had taken you to the kitchens, the great hearth of your castle was very similar to Bucky’s except in its size.

You continued to look around at his meager furnishings, a small wooden table and bench were placed under the tiny window near the front door. A lumpy straw filled mattress sat atop wood planks, with a woolen blanket spread across. Your back hurt just looking at this poor excuse for a place to rest, guilt ridden as you thought of your own luxurious bed. With such hard labor Bucky deserves a more comfortable sleep, he’s certainly more deserving of it than you.

Bucky pulled some clothes out of a trunk, and stepped outside to change out of respect to your presence. He wiped the filth from his body and rubbed leaves of mint onto his neck and chest to help mask the odor as evidence of his hard work. Upon returning he broke you from a trance of comfortably staring at the way the candlelight danced on the stone walls.

A blanket of darkness now covered the sky, crickets provided the serene soundtrack on your walk under the glow of the moonlight. Pressed close to Bucky, your arm slung through his, taking in the scent of smoky amber, sweet mint and the earthy leather of his jacket.

A cool gust of breeze sent a chill through your spine, not going unnoticed by Bucky. He turned towards you, enveloping you in his embrace as he rubbed your back. You looked up at his gentle face, unknowingly licking your lips at the sight of his mouth. Everything was still in that moment except for your racing heart. Bucky’s gaze moved between your shining eyes and your mouth, slightly open and eager, no, begging to meet his.

Your nerves increased as he began to tilt his head down towards you, gulping quickly as you braced for what you wanted from him. Or did you? Should you even be doing this? Doubts filled your head again as you stared at his approaching affection.

You backed away, nervously tripping on your words as you pointed to the night’s sky. Stars twinkled in the dark landscape and you motioned for Bucky look up at them with you. He smiled, biting his lip as he stopped to look at your face, happy and full of wonder, before he moved his gaze above.

“I love looking at the stars,” you said.  
“They change, you know.”

You turned to face him again, “Yes I know that,” you said in a borderline curt tone, though you hadn’t meant to. Study of the stars was part of your education, but you wondered how he knew this. “How did you learn of this?”

“It is just something I discovered. I would look above and notice patterns in the sky, some nights they would move. I drew them on parchment. When the winter comes the patterns will be different, and the same for when the flowers begin to bloom.”

Handsome and intelligent, the more you learned about him the harder it seems it would be to let him go.

You exhaled deeply as you continued to gaze at the stars, “They’re beautiful.”  
“You’re beautiful, my lady,” he said.

The way his eyes fixed on you caused a blush to heat your cheeks, certain you were an overly ripened tomato by now. “We should be going,” you said, looping your arm through his again as you continued walking to the tavern.

Once inside you began to look for Wanda and Steven. The tavern was packed, you caught Wanda’s attention with a wave accompanied by a big smile before you and Bucky sat at a table on the far side of the lively room.

Ale was brought to your table while Bucky decided on his food. He was torn between the salted fish and a savory pie, choosing the pie in the end and so you ordered the latter. When the food arrived you pushed your plate towards him.

“Are you not hungry my lady?” he questioned.  
“I took my dinner already. You must be starved, please, eat,” you insisted.

Bucky smiled and thanked you as he attacked both dishes like a rabid animal, momentarily forgetting his manners.

“I feel terrible stuffing my face while you sit idly watching me. Would you like to try some at least?”

You picked on some oat bread that was served along with the fish, just for a taste. “Mmmm this is very good. It’s quite different from the one made in the…” your head sunk lower, gesturing the unnamed secret with your hands.

“Is that what you do there? You work in the kitchens?” he asked while chewing his food.

You shook your head in agreement, hating that you were lying to him.  _Why do you care so much? You shouldn’t. Should you? Nothing can ever come of this so why are you even here?_

“What a life,” Bucky said, breaking you from your inner thoughts. “Living there. I wish I had it easy like that,” he continued fantasizing about life in the castle.

But that’s just what it is, a fantasy. To the commoners it’s all fluff, pretty dresses and grand balls. They know nothing of the politics you must deal with, the mask you wear when you’re in the public’s eye, whether you’re feeling unwell or struggle to bite your tongue at an indecent remark; you must always present yourself with the respectable grace of a princess. Your position comes with privilege, you understand that, but it did not mean you were without problems.

“It’s not all great,” you said under your breath.  
“It’s better than life here,” he chuckled, though he was not amused. “Being waited on hand and foot isn’t great? I don’t hear the King complaining!”

“Always being told how to act, what to wear, who to marry! Your life is dictated for you, how is that fair?” you asked with an aggravated tone.    
“It’s not fair that the people of this village struggle while the King and Princess are living a life of luxury!” Bucky shouted.

Your face twisted with worry, not as concerned for drawing attention to you and your secret, but for Bucky’s sake, hoping no one heard him speaking against the crown.

“Lower your voice Bucky, please,” you pleaded with him, reaching out to hold his hand.  
“I’m sorry my lady,” he said, running his thumb along your hand.

“Tell me the struggles Bucky. I wish to know.”  
“What good would come of that my lady? You may live in the castle but your voice has no value there,” he said.

You swallowed a gulp of air, remembering Bucky was speaking to who he believed was a servant, not the Princess. His candid thoughts did not bother you, but what struck a chord was the implication that those who work in your castle are not being heard. Things were different with Wanda, you made sure of that, but what about everyone else?

“I’m sure if the Princess knew the true struggles of her people she would be more than willing to…”

“Please!” Bucky interrupted. “I highly doubt the Princess cares about us. As long as our taxes continue to pay for her silken dresses she will not concern herself with the lives of the villagers.”   
“She cares about more than that!” you defended.  
“Well, I don’t care about the Princess,” he said. Bucky took a large gulp of ale, slamming the flagon on the table. “I care only about you, my lady,” he said, with a softer tone.

You smiled at him, tense and uneasy. You shouldn’t have come here. Bucky hates you. Well, he hates the Princess, who you just so happen to be. You’re hurt. Is he wrong though or are you? Were you wrong in believing Lord Pierce’s words of the wellbeing of your kingdom?

Bucky noticed your pensive gaze and delicately lifted your chin up. “I’m sorry to upset you my lady.”

He smiled sincerely as he looked at you. The corners of your lips pulled up into a faint smile. “Let us change the subject.” Bucky nodded in return.

“I hope you have room for dessert,” you joked, cracking a larger smile. “What should we have?”  
“The stewed plums. They are a favorite of mine,” he responded.

Bucky wasn’t lying as he took heaping spoonfuls of the sweet dessert.

“Mmmm that was delicious,” you said, licking your lips.

Bucky was in a trance as he followed your tongue as it peaked out and slipped its way back inside. He laughed, noticing you missed a purple spot on the corner of your lips. He took his thumb to your mouth, applying light pressure as he wiped it away, his touch lingered on your skin causing a wave of goosebumps to appear on your arms. 

Your lips were tingling, electrified by his touch. “I-I should be getting back now,” you said, your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

Without warning Bucky’s lips were on yours. It was a quick peck, full of uncertainty. As he pulled away you were left staring at him, mouth agape in shock. 

“‘M sorry my lady I should not have…” he nervously sputtered.   
“Kiss me again,” you said, with firm confidence.

All of your doubts faded as his head tilted towards you. The tip of his nose brushed lightly at your cheek as he brought his lips to yours with slow passion. Your whimpers were swallowed by his soft lips, molding themselves to your own as he tenderly kissed you, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

You tilted your head, opening your mouth slightly for a feverish, passionate kiss, teasing him with your warm tongue. Bucky hummed with satisfaction as you ran it along his bottom lip before slipping it inside to meet his own deepening the kiss. He tasted of saccharine, like the sweetest dessert you’ve ever had and you were instantly addicted.  

The world was lost around you until the clearing of someone’s throat became louder. You pulled away from Bucky, yours lips pink and swollen, to find Wanda standing over you grimacing. “It’s time to leave.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, looking away when he caught Steven’s smile that silently conveyed the happiness he felt for his love-stricken friend. You bit the inside of your cheeks to keep your overjoyed composure.

Standing up from the table Bucky took your hand in his, leaning to whisper in your ear, “Sweet dreams my lady, until we meet again.” He placed a lingering kiss on your reddened cheek. You sighed feeling his lips on your skin again, never wanting them to leave.

Wanda pulled your arm, tugging you off the dreamlike cloud you had been floating on. Bidding farewell to Steven and Bucky once again you made your departure, craning your neck around as you walked away to catch a final glimpse of the man that made your heart swell.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleep was scarce once again as you replayed the night over and over in your mind, eventually shutting your eyes and drifting into dreamland with a smile plastered firmly on your face. When the morning finally came you broke fast with your father, thankful for his quiet disposition and complete ignorance of the dreamy-eyed look you couldn’t help wear.

Afterwards you asked Wanda to escort you to the kitchens. The staff was shocked by your unannounced visit with spoons clanking down on the wooden table and baskets of root vegetables dropped with sudden urgency. Whispered apologies filled the room as they frantically attempted to line up in an orderly fashion before you.

“Please, there is no need for this,” you insisted. “I simply wish to thank you all for a wonderful meal, today and always. It is not often said but it should be.”

An older woman with ginger curls tucked under a bonnet took a brave step forward. “That’s very kind of you Princess,” her soft voice spoke.

A taller woman with similar hair coloring wrapped her hands around the older woman’s arm, pulling her back in line, with a quiet reprimand under her breath. You smiled at the pair, asking their names.

“It’s alright Pepper, your mother does not speak out of turn,” you said, assuring her with a smile. “I want all of you to know if there is anything you wish to speak with me about, even if you feel it is an unfavorable opinion, please know that no harm will ever come to you. You are all valued, you all have a voice,” you said, making sure you made eye contact with everyone.

After learning all of their names and thanking them once more you went back to your bedchambers. Lord Coulson was waiting promptly outside of your door and you apologized for keeping him. Inside you asked for the reason of his visit, your heart beating anxiously as you awaited the subject he wanted to keep from the King.

“I have reviewed the financial records and I’m concerned with the payments Lord Pierce has allotted to our neighboring kingdoms,” he worried.

“Is this customary?” you naively asked; you still have much to learn about all of the aspects of running a kingdom.

“It is good to be in favor with other kingdoms. Sometimes alliances are formed through marriage, other times they can be indebted to us after our assistance, financially or militarily.” He sighed deeply before continuing. “Some funds have been disbursed but not accounted for.”

He smiled with unease, dropping his voice to a whisper, “I do not wish to accuse Lord Pierce of foul play. Your father trusts him greatly, but your father has also entrusted me with the financials and so I am torn.”

Though Lord Pierce has been testing your patience as of late you always believed there was good in people, at least until they’ve proven otherwise. “Have you asked Lord Pierce directly?” you questioned.

Lord Coulson chuckled, “Yes, several times, however I was always met with interruption… an unclear answer or Lord Pierce conveniently needed elsewhere. It has happened all too often and so I am asking you for assistance.”

You assured him you would mention the topic during today’s meeting. “Thank you Lord Coulson. I’m truly grateful to have you here with us, as our Lord Chamberlain and also a dear friend.” You hugged him as you bid each other goodbye.

 

 

* * *

Wanda tidied up around the room as you stared out of the small window, your brows knit together with conflict as your mind raced with questions. Time had passed faster than you realized and so you were headed towards the council chambers. The sound of your father’s harsh coughs grew louder until you entered the room quickening your pace.

As you entered Lord Pierce was calling out to a servant, “Bring me the King’s cup.” He was given a goblet of wine to help clear his throat.  
  
“Father is everything alright?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you rushed to his side.  
“Your heart is too large my dear Y/N. You needn’t worry about me,” he said, offering a reassuring smile as he placed his hand on yours.  
  
You took a seat, leg nervously bouncing underneath the table in anticipation. Your apprehension faded as soon as the meeting began, assertively voicing your opinion on each topic that was discussed. You took further initiative in bringing up the subject of the castle finances, leading the conversation exactly where you wanted it to go.

“It is customary to forge relationships with our neighbors that may be beneficial to all,” Lord Pierce patronizingly said.

“I’m well aware of how this works Lord Pierce,” you said with a hint of sarcasm in your tone. “I wish to know what kingdoms we have given money to and what we’ve received in return.”

You held your head up high, staring at the older man holding your resolve. He rattled off an almost scripted speech but all countries were accounted for according to Lord Coulson’s records and you knew there was more. If Lord Pierce has nothing to hide then he should be forthcoming with the truth. You pushed again, needing to gain answers about the missing money.

“Uniting kingdoms requires financial security as a sign of good faith,” he began. You squinted in confusion as he continued. “Uniting with Hydrana would be in the best interest for everyone.”

“What?!” you spat, uncomfortably chuckling at his ridiculous statement. If anyone was unwell it was certainly Lord Pierce, who has clearly lost his mind.

“Father, our kingdom has a history of war against Hydrana. Why on earth are we considering this?” you questioned.  
“Both kingdoms are strong…” your father began to say before Pierce continued his sentence, “And together you will be stronger.”

Your father turned towards you, taking your hands into his own clammy palms, “Y/N, there is talk of the mad king Thanos of Titan who will stop at nothing to see our lands, our people,  _all_ people destroyed.”

For the first time since the day your mother collapsed you saw fear in your father’s eyes. There were rumors of the mad king, so obsessed with death he tortured his own mother, cutting her body alive as she screamed for mercy.

“It would be wise to make amends,” said Lord Pierce, whose voiced pulled you away from those horrid thoughts.  
“And how would you see these amends being made?” you hesitantly asked, feeling a lump rising in your throat.

With firm confidence Lord Pierce replied, “The best protection for all kingdoms is for you to wed Prince Grantham Ward of Hydrana.”

The lump planted itself firmly in your throat as a dense feeling sunk to the pit of your stomach. Unable to speak, all you could do in response was shake your head back and forth.

“The prince is an excellent suitor. His family has great wealth and security. He would make a fine ruler for this land,” Lord Pierce continued.

“This land already has a ruler!” you shouted, looking at your father while also thinking about yourself.

You were not ready to rule yet but in time you could. You loved your kingdom and its people and… Bucky’s bright smile flashed in your mind. The thought of wedding another made your stomach turn.

“Father, you cannot allow this,” you pleaded, willing your tears back.  
“Y/N if there is a mad king we shall need allies,” your father resigned.  
“We have allies. Wakanda has the greatest army our world has ever seen!”  
“Wakanda is too far,” he grit through his teeth.  
“But…” you began before he cut you off with a loud dismissal.  
“It’s done Y/N,” your father groaned as he began another coughing fit, wincing as he held his stomach in pain.

You fear that talk of Wakanda has brought this on as he would always associate them with memories of your mother’s untimely death. With the wave of his hand you and Lord Pierce are escorted out of the room, the sound of his coughs still boom against the heavy door.

“Your father is worse than he lets on Princess. Prince Grantham is arriving tomorrow. I know you are opposed to the marriage but please think about your people… and your father,” Lord Pierce paused, the corners of his wrinkled mouth formed a frown. “I’m sure he would love nothing more than to watch his daughter marry before he passes.”

As Lord Pierce walked away it felt as if he took the life out of you with him. Surely he cannot be as sick as Lord Pierce believes. Your father’s coughing fit distracted you from what he said,  _it’s done_. The arrangement was made, you were going to marry the prince of Hydrana before your father passes. No, it can’t be, he is still young with many years ahead of him.

A soft voice pulled your from your thoughts. Looking over you saw a young woman whose clothing indicated she was a housemaid. Her large blue eyes softened as she slowly approached you, “Are you alright my lady?”

You wiped away the tears you now realized were streaming steadily down your face. Taking a calming inhale you asked for her name. “Thank you Darcy, I will be alright,” you lied, hoping somehow you could make yourself believe the words.

You went back to your bedchamber and waited for Wanda, telling her everything in a whirlwind. You cried on her shoulder, conflicted as you wanted to hate your father for arranging your marriage to your kingdom’s enemy but you couldn’t, especially not if he is as sick as you were told.

He is doing what he believes is best for the kingdom and for you, but he doesn’t know better, he doesn’t know how you feel about Bucky. Your feelings must be pushed aside though for the law states you must marry royalty. Bucky is certainly not royalty, the closest he’s come is forging swords for the Royal Guard. No, he isn’t royalty and yet your heart is ruled by him, wanting to follow his every move.

“Wanda,” you sniffed, shamelessly wiping your nose with the sleeve of your dress, “I have to go to him.”

Her eyes fall at your request, sighing once more for the heavy burden you’re asking her to bear.

“Please, it will be the last time. I’m to wed another,” you cried, your voice cracking as you spoke. “Please Wanda he will worry if I don’t see him.”

Wanda sighed again, “And what are you going to tell him Y/N?”  
“I don’t know, something, not the truth but something,” you replied. “He needs to know that I can’t ever see him again.”

Wanda nodded in solemn agreement. Despite her trepidation she knows how important Bucky is to you and that you will need closure to move on.

Later on you began your final journey, slipping through the winding tunnels within the castle. Quietly moving through the passageway where the walls are thinner you stopped midway to listen in on a conversation.

“…make a fine wife…” the first voice said.

It was difficult to place a face to the voice through the walls, you weren’t even sure what part of the castle you were passing through.

You continued to move again overhearing another unknown voice speak, “I will quickly fill her with my seed so her belly will grow fat with my sons while I delight myself in the company of more beautiful women.”

The pair of strangers began to laugh, their boisterous sound chased through the tunnels until you zigzagged far enough away. You had remembered the proper turns to get to the final path that would lead you outside. It was early still, as the orange sun began its decent into the horizon.

You found Bucky in the market, laughing with a merchant he seemed to be well acquainted with. Your heart ached watching him playfully talk with the equally good looking man. You adjusted your hood, nodding to Wanda that you were ready. You weren’t though but it has to be done.

Bucky spotted you and Wanda walking down from the main path. His face lit up brighter than the sun as he waited for you to join his side.

“My lady!” he squealed with excitement, lifting you into his arms, twirling you around. You willed yourself not to break down in that moment.

Bucky introduced you both, Wanda politely curtsied and you noticed a curious blush forming on her cheeks. “And this,” he proudly beamed, wrapping his arm around you, “Is the beautiful Lady Violet.” You smiled somewhat awkwardly at the mention of your fake name and curtsied before him.

“Well, hello ladies,” the man smiled, taking off his leather hat as he bowed before you and Wanda. “My name is Samuel Wilson and it’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s nice to put a face to the name Bucky can’t stop talking about,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky turned a bright shade of red as he bid his friend goodbye. You told Wanda you would meet her shortly. She nodded in return offering a bittersweet smile before she turned back towards Samuel.

Bucky grabbed your hand placing it securely on his arm as you walked through the forest. Your mouth opened several times in an attempt to speak but the words were caught in your throat, unable to come out. Bucky was too excited to notice your struggle, instead telling you how happy he was to see you again.

“And I’m so glad you’ve met Samuel,” he continued as he placed his hand above yours. Looking up you caught his beautiful eyes staring at you with a loving gaze, you hide your emotions as best as you could. “He is a good friend, one of my closest along with Steven. They are good, honest men and that’s something I hold great value in.”

You turned away at the mention of honesty, feeling the guilt screaming from within as if it was written on your face with ink.

“W-we need to speak,” you stuttered, swallowing a nervous gulp.

Bucky leads you to a clearing of large stones settled beside a thin brook. Sitting on the cool surface you shut your eyes and listened to the calming rush of the water flow past you. Bucky’s gentle voice pulled you from your brief meditation as he asked if everything was alright.

You couldn’t look at him, not yet, instead you looked down at your boots, carelessly tapping them into the wet soil, splashing mud on the ends of your tunic.

Exhaling a shaky breath you finally spoke, whispering, “My father may be sick.”  
“I’m so sorry my lady,” Bucky said, draping his arm around your shoulders drawing you near him but he felt your resistance. “Does he work in the castle with you?” he asked.

Your lips pressed together forming a tense straight line before you answered, “Um, yes, he’s very important there.”

Bucky asked how he can help you but you dismissed him. There was nothing he or you could do. The reality of losing your father overwhelmed you and you couldn’t help but cry. Bucky successfully pulled you into his chest, firmly holding you against him as one hand gently stroked your hair.

“Please, I would do anything to help you my love,” he whispered in your ear.

You pushed away from him, eyes widened in shock at his term of endearment. “I have to go,” you declared, ultimately deciding to chicken out on telling him whatever truth you intended.

“So soon?” he whined. “It hurts to have such little time with you.”

You looked at him with wordless apology as you stood from the rocks, turning away from him to leave. You made it a few steps before you stopped upon hearing him call out, “Marry me.”

You turned around to see his toothy grin. “Bucky are you mad?” you snapped back. “You hardly know me.”

“I know that my heart skips a beat when I think of you, that your smile makes me feel lighter than air and every moment we are apart all I think about is having you near me. You are the brightest star that shines in the night’s sky and somehow you’ve made me the luckiest man, blessing me with your glow. I want you to leave the castle. I may not have much but I can give you the world. I love you.”

Bucky’s smile is sincere as he poured his heart out before you waiting for your response.

His admission increases your flowing tears. “I’m sorry Bucky. I can’t see you anymore,” you sobbed, turning your back to him as you begin to walk away.

His face drops and he runs after you, wrapping his hand around your arm jolting you back.

“Bucky please, let me go!” you cried, looking down to avoid his gaze.  
“No. You can’t leave like this,” he protests, sounding more desperate than angry.  
“Please just forget me!” you wailed.  
“I could never!” he adamantly snapped back. “Why are you running away from me? I know you feel the same, tell me you do!” he begged.

You shook your head in protest, looking everywhere but the eyes of the heart your actions were breaking.

“I have to go,” you painfully murmured.

Bucky rejected your statement, lifting your chin to meet your gaze noting your downturned eyes and furrowed brows. You saw the sorrow in his eyes which made you itch to leave. Bucky anticipated your actions, before you had the chance to turn away he cupped your cheeks with his hands, pressing his lips to yours. Feeling his soft lips on yours made you melt under his touch.

Your lips betrayed your words as you kissed him back, opening your mouth and letting your tongue drag along his bottom lip, subtly asking for entry into his mouth and he willingly accepted. Your tongues danced together as you moaned into his mouth, conveying your emotions, your love for him. Your hands found their way around his body, running up the expanse of his back, feeling strong muscles through his leather jerkin. Bucky moved his arms to the small of your back, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt his arousal begin to form through his pants and that’s when you pushed yourself away.

You were scared. You wanted, more than anything, to stay with him, tonight, tomorrow and every day until your last breath but you couldn’t. You forced yourself to remember who you really were. You always knew presiding over a kingdom meant having to make tough choices, and letting go of the man you loved would be the first of many.

“No I can’t,” you cried again. You looked at him for the final time whispering goodbye before taking off in the direction back towards the market.

Wanda smiled, watching Samuel with adoration as he was clearly in the middle of a funny tale. She abruptly left him when she saw you running towards her, tears streaking your face. She left without saying goodbye, wrapping her arm around you as you both took the main road back to the entrance of the hidden passageway.

Once you were back in the castle walls you asked Wanda to give you some space, needing to be alone after your difficult conversation with Bucky. You left out the details, unable to tell her of his proposal, simply thinking about it made you want to run back into his arms.

As you entered the empty chamber you quickly pulled off the cloak, unlaced the bodice and lifted the tunic over your head, throwing the clothes into a messy pile on the floor. You needed them off your body; they were fire, the memories they held burned your skin.

Quickly putting on your nightgown you looked down at your dirt covered boots. You bent down to unlace them but your vision becomes clouded by tears as you thought of Bucky once more. You throw a robe over you, wiping the wetness from your cheek and leave your room, taking the hallway down to the balcony. You leaned over the railing finding comfort in the stillness of the gardens illuminated by the moonlight.

Inhaling the crisp air you looked up at the dark sky. A twinkle caught your eye, a bright star flickering in the darkness. You remembered Bucky’s words, swallowing a lump as tears stung your eyes again. Your mind could not escape him, not tonight at least. Eventually your memories will fade, surely they would. You were to wed a Prince, perhaps you would even love him and Bucky will be a distant memory, fading in the sky like a dying star.

Your mind tortures itself, replaying the few memories you have with Bucky as you walk back to your bedchamber, unaware of the person you nearly walked into.

“Pardon me my Lord,” you said to Lord Pierce. You were so distracted you didn’t realize you had been far too polite towards that man.

“Goodnight Princess,” he replied, watching your head resume its low hanging position as you walked away.

Pierce cocked his head in confusion as he noticed the muddy footprints you left in your wake. He called over the head of the Royal Guard. Sir Rumlow stood tall and proud awaiting the Lord’s command. “Keep an eye out for our princess,” he requested with a curious smirk.


	5. Chapter 5

The bright sun was set high in the sky beaming its warmth upon the courtyard. The Royal Guard stood tall amongst various noblemen, Lord’s Pierce and Coulson included, that waited with you for the arrival of Prince Grantham’s carriage. Strong black horses appeared through the barbican, their whinnies bringing a smile to your otherwise composed face.

With an inhale you stood up straighter, your shoulders back and head held high, exhaling your anxieties away. Your arms were down, hands crossed in front of you feeling the delicate fabric of your red velvet brocade dress brush against your fingers. The Prince stepped out of the carriage, dressed in a black leather doublet that sat high on his neck, embellished with buckles down the front and the sigil of Hydrana displayed proudly on his chest.

He nodded, acknowledging the lineup of people he passed until he got to the end. The prince flashed a bright smile of straight teeth upon seeing you and bowed out of respect, gaining a curtsy in return as you welcomed him to your Kingdom.

“It is an honor to have you here Prince Grantham,” you lied through a practiced smile.  
“Princess Y/N,” he said, taking your hand, “It is you who honors me with the privilege of becoming your husband,” he said placing a kiss to your fingers.

You smiled at his gesture, looking at the crinkles surrounding his dark eyes, they matched the way his lips were pulled to an equally enthusiastic smile. You returned the smile, sincerely this time, with the hope that you might find love with Prince Grantham as your parents did through their arranged marriage.

You asked the Prince to walk with you through the castle gardens, finding it a much more relaxing way to get to know someone versus a stuffy chamber. Besides, even though this was to be an arranged marriage you believed getting to know one another would help make this feel like less of a business transaction, and deep down you needed anything to take your mind away from thinking of Bucky.

Prince Grantham was very charming as you made small talk, strolling through the gardens arm in arm. Sitting down on a bench surrounded by an array of colorful flowers you asked him about his family, learning he has an older brother in line for the throne of Hydrana and two younger siblings, twins, brother and sister. He admits it was difficult being in the middle, the twins had each other and he was bullied a lot by his older brother. His mother died when he was young much like your own. Hearing him speak of her with such longing opened a small spot for him in your heart.

“My father became cruel after her death,” he confessed, continuing to tell you how he worked hard in his studies, sword training and just about any skill seeking the approval of his father, which was never received.

He asked about your family and childhood, rubbing your hand lightly as you spoke of your own mother. “I am an only child, however I grew up with my very dear friend Wanda. Her mother was one of our cooks and…”

“Wanda is a servant?” he questioned.  
“Well,  _no_ ,” you said, taking a pause. “Technically she is my handmaid but I don’t think of her as that. She is more like the sister I never had.” You studied his face as he digested your unusual relationship.  
“That’s… different. I quite like it!” he said with an upbeat tone.  
                                                                                                                    
You continued to walk again, leisurely strolling past the pond. Grantham stops, bending down to pick up a small flower that has blown in your path. He tilts his head, looking at you with a boyish smile as he hands you the small stem. The sight breaks your heart, a violet. Its petals are wilted, much like your heart as memories of your first encounter with Bucky replay in your mind.

Grantham notices the change in your posture, your shoulders now slumped over with your head hanging so low it’s nearly buried in your own cleavage.

He asks if you’re alright to which you respond, “Oh yes. I’m just feeling a little… tired. I’m going to rest for a bit but I will see you at dinner,” you said feigning cheerfulness.  
“Of course my darling,” he replied, kissing your hand once more.

* * *

Your head leans against Wanda’s as you lay together on your plush mattress, sharing the pillow. “Tell me to forget him,” you begged.

Wanda shifted her weight onto her elbow, turning to open her body up to you as you moved in close to rest your head on her slender frame. Moments like these reminded you just how much you loved and appreciated Wanda. From the start was there for you, rescuing your teary-eyed self from the maze of passageways when you were lost as a child through today where she risked everything for your silly ambition to leave the castle.

What good did that do? You met Bucky, a handsome, charming man you could never be with. Perhaps things would have been better if you’d never met him. Now you would grow old thinking about what could have been.

“I’m sorry Wanda,” you whispered, swallowing a lump.  
Wanda shushed you as she rubbed gentle circles on your back, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”  
“Yes, I do,” you huffed, sitting up. “Not only did I drag you into this mess but,” you paused pulling your mouth into a lopsided smile, “I dragged you away from Samuel.”

Wanda grinned widely, turning as red as your dress.

“I knew it!” you yelped. “You should go to him Wanda. Just because I cannot be with the person I love does not mean you should lose your chance.”

Wanda sat up straight, her smile wiped away at your words, “You love him?” she asked with concern.  
“Yes,” you firmly answered, continuing to speak before she opened her mouth with a comment you probably didn’t want to hear. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s childish, too soon but it’s what I feel.”  
“Initially I was against you leaving,” her shaky voice spoke, “But I see the look in your eyes when you’re with Bucky. I’m sorry you had to leave him.”

You hugged Wanda, thanking her for her understanding. You fell in love with Bucky so quickly but now you would have a lifetime to fall for Prince Grantham. He is … well, he isn’t Bucky. That’s something you’re just going to have to accept. You could compare the two men until the end of time but in the end Grantham falls short of Bucky by the greatest of distances.

You let go of Wanda, getting off the bed to change into a new dress for dinner.

“He’s not so bad, right?” you asked of the Prince, in a less than convincing voice.   
“I’m not sure. Clinton told Natasha that the Prince was very rude to him, openly mocking him because he thought he could not be heard.”

Your heart sunk, could this be true? Grantham appeared to be very kind to everyone, at least in your presence. You couldn’t love someone who was cruel and disrespectful to others.

A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts. Wanda opened it to find Prince Grantham smiling, holding a bouquet of golden flowers.

“You must be Wanda!” he proclaimed with a smile. She bit her tongue to keep a plain expression as he took her hand to his lips, “It’s wonderful to meet you. Y/N has told me so much about you.”

You smiled awkwardly as Grantham handed you the bouquet. You brought them to your nose taking a deep inhale, “Mmmm these are wonderful!”

“Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm to you.

You handed the flowers to Wanda, shrugging your shoulders with a confused expression, unable to figure out the mixed behavior of your guest.

Walking to the Great Hall with Prince Grantham you saw the long and normally full dining table was set for two. Typically guests would dine with the nobility of the castle but considering your father’s condition Lord Pierce thought it would be best for a more intimate setting so you and Prince Grantham could continue to get to know each other.

The young squire named Peter nervously ran to pull your chair out for you but Grantham managed the task himself. Instead Peter quickly filled your cups with mead, smiling nervously as his eyes darted everywhere around the room except at your gaze. You chuckled at his actions, assuring the young man he needn’t be so nervous.

A serving woman placed trays of honeyed chicken, mutton pie and fig tarts, along with a bowl of summer greens with apples and pine nuts and a basket of freshly baked bread. The aroma of scents was intoxicating.

“Thank you Margaret. This smells delicious,” you complimented.  
“You’re welcome Princess Y/N, and it’s Peggy,” she said, nodding before she exited.

Grantham’s face did not hide his displeasure in the way your servant spoke to you. He voiced his opinion with equal vehemence as he informed you of the punishment one would receive if they did that in Hydrana.

“I believe in having an open line of communication with the people who work in my home. Besides if I was wrong she had every right to correct me,” you said proudly.

He scoffed in return. You changed the subject, apologizing for the informal meal, explaining how your father loved to host dinners and would have joined tonight had he not been feeling unwell.

“I’m very sorry Princess. It is never easy to lose a parent,” he said, casually ripping off the end piece of the bread loaf.  
“Excuse me but my father still lives and he  _will_  recover!” you huffed.

Grantham apologized, grabbing your hand as he backtracked on his words, expressing his clarification on the topic. He began a long-winded monologue about how his mother’s death affected him. Despite becoming upset for not being able to get a word in you were able to better understand what he meant by his earlier comment. You felt happy to have a shared experience in common, even if it was a less than pleasurable one, hoping this could be the first of many that would help build a solid foundation for your future together.

His words still hung in your head however and all you could think about was your poor father, sick in bed, no longer able to partake in dining with you. Grantham was silent while he ate, well it was more like he didn’t speak; he was certainly not silent. The sound of him chewing food was grating. He slurped his mead, slamming the cup down on the table awaiting Peter to quickly refill it.

You felt his eyes burning through you while you slowly moved the food around your plate, raising your gaze to meet his once you found the inner strength. He was indeed staring at you, with softened eyes and a small grin, praising the meal.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. We have wonderful people who work so hard in the kitchen. I’ve asked them to prepare my favorite dessert as well,” you replied enthusiastically.

Peggy and Natasha cleared the table bringing back a tureen of stewed plums garnished with mint leaves. Your smile dropped upon seeing the dessert, perhaps it was too soon to indulge your heart with those memories. You take a heaping spoonful, the tart fruit tasting better than prepared in the tavern though it was missing an important ingredient, Bucky sharing it with you.

You looked over to Grantham, eagerly watching as he brought the spoon to his mouth. His face puckered as he pulled the utensil away, reaching for his napkin and spitting into it with disgust.

Grantham wiped his mouth with a napkin, spotting your saddened face, “Uh, sorry Princess, this was far too sweet for my taste.”

You maintained a polite smile, bittersweet, like the memories you thought of with Bucky.

You walked off dinner around the castle, finding yourself in the courtyard. The sky rumbled as thick grey clouds hung above you, the smell of rain lingered in the air announcing its impending arrival.

“It’s a shame about the weather, I would have liked to look at the stars tonight,” you sighed.  
“What is there to see?” he asked.  
“Everything!” you exclaimed, releasing your arm from his. “The stars are memories of the past shining above to guide us. They are our dreams, our hopes, a beautiful reminder of…”  
“They are just stars,” Grantham laughed as he interrupted you.

You exhaled with disappointment. Bucky understood the stars, he understood you. “Perhaps we should go inside before it rains.”

“Yes, besides we have far more important things to discuss,” he continued, grabbing your hand to his arm again. “Our unity will be for the good of our kingdoms.”

You sighed, knowing although this was not the best plan it was the most convenient to give the Kingdom a fighting chance. Wakanda is a strong ally but it would take too long to send word to them. The mad king could decimate all kingdoms before the Wakandan army arrived.

“When Titan attacks we must be prepared,” you acquiesced.

Grantham spoke with enthusiasm planning for war. “We should round up as many men as we can from our kingdoms, young and old. Surprise is our best plan. Your subjects will act as the first line of defense while my army lay in waiting until they think they have the upper hand and…”

“It sounds like you want my people to die while Hydrana waits until the fight is over to call yourselves the victor!” you presumed, hoping his words were twisted in error once again.  
“All lives lost will have done so in the name of the greater good,” he curtly stated.

You stared at his face in disgust, “I will not allow the good people of my kingdom to fight in this war without the full support of Hydrana.”

Grantham turned to face you, scowling as he gripped the top of your arm with force, “You will have no choice in the matter as my wife. This is  _my_ kingdom,  _my_  land!” he snapped.

You shrugged your arm from his grip, the rapid beat of your heart pumping loudly as you yelled, “You’re just as cruel as your father! Just because you cannot inherit the throne of your kingdom doesn’t mean-”

His hand smacked your cheek with a sharp sting. You held your face in shock, “How  _dare_  you!”

Before you can call for the Guards his lips pressed to yours with force, one hand gripping your face, squeezing your cheeks in to keep you from moving. You squirmed trying to get away from him, using all of your strength to keep your lips shut tight. His other hand slithered down your side like a snake on the hunt for prey, gripping the curve of your bottom with a forceful palm.

You pushed Grantham away screaming for the Guards at the top of your lungs. Sir Rumlow appeared quickly followed by his fellow guards with Lord Pierce trailing behind them.

“Take him to the dungeons!” you ordered.

Sir Rumlow nodded to his men who held Grantham by his arms as he pleaded to speak.

“What happened?” Pierce questioned.  
“He put his hands on me. I want him removed from my Kingdom immediately!”

“Lord Pierce, might I explain,” Grantham babbled. “The Princess had become upset, between her father, our wedding and the impending war. It was too much for such a fragile thing to handle, I merely tried to calm her frantic nerves, for her own good of course.”

“Liar!” you shouted, stomping towards Grantham with an accusing finger pointed at his face.

Lord Pierce raised his hand to get your attention, “Princess Y/N stop.” Your nostrils flared with anger as you turned to face the older man. “Your father has just fallen asleep after a difficult evening. You shouldn’t make a commotion, not here. Prince Grantham will be escorted back to his room with the Guards posted at the door. I assure you this will be dealt with in the morning. Trust me Princess, for your father’s sake.”

You were fuming with rage and but conflicted with worry, not wanting to raise your voice anymore for fear your father will get sicker. With a reluctant sigh you cautiously agreed, “Of course, anything for Father.”

You sneered as the Royal Guard walked Prince Grantham down the hallway, with Lord Pierce offering to walk you to your bedchamber. He spoke of your father’s condition, ensuring he would do everything to see that he will recover. Bidding him goodnight you grabbed a pillow, silently screaming your frustrations into it.

There was a reason your kingdom warred with Hydrana, nothing has changed. Prince Grantham is a monster much like the symbol of his despicable kingdom, reaching his tentacles out to squeeze the life out of those around him. Is the threat from the mad king of Titan even real?

Prince Grantham’s intentions were not to be trusted. Is there anyone you can trust in your own home? Wanda. Of course, she would never betray you. If only she were here. You encouraged her to meet Samuel again and for once she did not protest.

With a deep sigh you thought of another person you trusted. You bit your lip hard as your mind wrestled with your heart, ultimately giving in. You would go to Bucky, you had to. Seeing him would help lift your spirits, give you the courage needed to fight for your kingdom. Then you would find Wanda and go back together, simple.

The route was fresh in your mind as you hastily ran through the passageways, ignoring every sound but that of your pounding heartbeat. Rain poured heavy on the ground as you crawled through the muddied opening. Holding the hood of your cloak down you moved quickly as you made your way to the village.

The warm glow of light flickered in the window of Bucky’s cottage. You ran to the door, rapidly pounding against the heavy wood, shivering as you waited for it to open. Bucky pulled the door open, standing there in a loose olive green tunic belted around his waist and black trousers that bunched at the bottom near his bare feet. Recognizing who was at his door he changed expressions from shocked and confused to happy and surprised all within a moment.

“You came back!” he sighed with delight, ushering you in. With your teeth chattering you looked back to see the embarrassing mud prints that led to the spot you were standing, your cloak dripping and forming a puddle on the earthen floor.

“You’re shivering!” Bucky exclaimed, “Come here, by the fire.”

Bucky untied the strings of you cloak, gently pulling the damp fabric off of your body as he hung it beside the hearth. He pulled a chair out for you by the table where you pulled off your dirty boots, setting them beside you. Bucky poured a cup of mulled cider, you warmed your hands on the mug watching as he sat across from you.

Gazing upon him you wondered how it was possible he grew even more handsome within a day’s time. The glowing embers of the fire highlighted his blue eyes, dark hair tousled in front of his face, his kind smile shining back at you.

“I’m so glad you came back,” he said, reaching his hand out to touch yours.   
“I, I…” you stuttered.

You wanted to tell him the truth about everything but you couldn’t. Bucky has been nothing but kind and more important honest with you while you have lied from the start.

Feeling like you were no better than Prince Grantham you stood up to grab your things, “I don’t know why I’m here. I should go, I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

Bucky moved to block your path, opening his arms out with a pleading cry, “Disturb me,  _please_. I only wish to make you happy.”

Tears flooded your eyes as you launched into his embrace. He kissed the top of your hair, arms wrapping around to pull you closer as you cried into his chest, “It’s too much Bucky. I just… I can’t deal with it. I wish to be someone else, to run away from it all,” you sobbed.

“Let’s go then. Wherever you want to go I’ll be with you… my lady, my star,” he whispered.

You looked up to see Bucky’s smiling back at you finding love through his stormy eyes. Breathing in his warm scent you felt renewed by your decision, no longer running from the truth in your heart. Your eyes filled with desire as you tilted your head towards him, Bucky closing the distance between you as your lips pressed together in a soft kiss.

Your fingers wove through his hair, deepening the kiss as if your lips were created for this sole purpose. He sucked on your bottom lip, shifting his hips and pressing his growing arousal against you as warmth begins to radiate from your core. Bucky’s tongue dances with your own as you felt his calloused hands caress your cheek, kissing you and stealing your breath away.

You pulled back for a moment resting your forehead against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as the warmth of the fire heated your skin. Bucky’s gentle touch grazed up and down your sides and he smiled, you met his gaze and took a deep breath. In the moment of your exhale you let go of your fears, your title, your responsibilities; the only thing in your mind and heart was certainty.

“I love you Bucky.”

His smile grew and he repeated the words back to you, pulling your lips together again. The need for more grew quickly. You were hungry for him, insatiable in your desire to feel his touch on your aching body.

“I need you,” you stressed with a breathless whisper, giving him a knowing stare.

Bucky pulled at the strings of your bodice, slowly pulling your arms out from it. He licked his plump lips staring at you before him, in your long white tunic, sinfully imagining your body underneath. You worked to undo the belt around his waist, running your hands under the loose fabric of his tunic, feeling his firm stomach muscles. Bucky pulled his shirt over his head, smiling as he watched your hands explore his solid chest.

Running your hands up to his neck you pulled him down for another searing kiss. His lips moved to trail kisses down your neck, spending time on a particularly sweet spot as you moaned with pleasure. His fingertips gently traced the collar of your tunic, pulling the fabric down from your body and letting it pool to the floor. His mouth dropped open as you stood bare before him.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiled.

Bucky cupped one breast with his hand, gently kneading your skin as he worshipped the other with his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, engulfing it into his warm mouth. You arched your back feeling wetness pool in your core. He kissed his way across to your other breast, gently biting your pebbled bud causing you to cry out, pulling him up for a feverish kiss as he walked you back towards his mattress.

Laying you down Bucky continued to worship your body leaving a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and continuing lower. You held your breath in anticipation as he stopped his actions when he reached your hot center, wrapping your thighs securely around his head as he continued kissing inside them.

The buildup of his teasing was excruciating as you felt your arousal threatening to drip. Bucky smiled as he licked a long stripe with his flat tongue up your folds, instantly causing you to squirm with the sensation unlike anything you’ve felt before. He dragged his tongue up and down once more tasting every inch of your soaked folds as the coil in your stomach began to tightly wind.

His tongue moved from your entrance to your clit, gently circling your throbbing bundle of nerves as you cried out, your hand instantly threading through his hair. He hummed with content as you writhed beneath him. His talented tongue swirled and sucked your clit as you breathlessly cried out his name. Your legs quivered around him as your eyes shut tight, the coil snapping within as you screamed with pleasure. Bucky rode out your release lapping up all you had to offer, until you stilled beneath him.

He moved from the mattress to take off his trousers, releasing his thick cock standing at full attention. Bucky climbed above you, coating himself with your slick as he began to tease your entrance.

“W-wait!” you panted.

Panic crossed Bucky’s face, “We don’t have to if…”  
“I want to Bucky but I can’t, not without telling you something,” you said.

His face squinted with confusion. “My-my name, it’s not Violet. It’s Y/N,” you admitted. You felt wrong enough not telling him the full truth, but this act of intimacy compelled you to admit your true name.  

“Well then Lady Y/N, I love you,” he said, capturing your lips again.

Bucky lined himself up with your entrance, whimpering as he gently pushed in. It took all his might not to lose all control as your warm tightness surrounded him. You exhaled, adjusting to the stretch of his girth, running your hands up his muscular back before meeting his gaze again.

You kissed him, shifting your hips and he began a slow pace, gently rocking into your wet heat. You moved your hips to match the rhythm of his thrusts, finding friction against your throbbing clit. He quickened his pace as you gasped, your fingers digging crescents into his back trying to hold on to something tangible as you quickly ascended to your buildup.

“Ahhh, Bucky, you feel s-so good,” you panted.

Your moans were drowned out by the sound of rainfall beating down on thatched roof. Bucky swallowed your whimpers with a wet kiss, barely hanging on as he felt your walls clench around him.

“B-Bucky,” you cried, arching your back as your orgasm washed over you like waves crashing along the shore.

Your release coaxed his own and with a few final snaps of his hips Bucky cried out your name, spilling himself inside you. He dropped his head down, his nose trailing up your skin before your lips met again in languid kisses as you both attempted to come down from your blissful high.

Bucky shifted on the bed, pulling you to rest your head on his shoulders as he brought the woolen blanket to cover your shivering body. You had to leave but you didn’t want to, not yet. Your hand went to his sheen covered chest as you shut your eyes to cuddle with him and savor the moment.  

Your back tickled with an itch. Stretching your hand out to scratch it you felt a heavy body in your way. You shot up quickly before calming yourself, recognizing Bucky’s sleeping body beside you. Panic struck you once more as you saw the rain had long stopped and the morning sun was shining in through the window.

“No, no, no!” you panicked, pushing up from the bed and quickly dressing.

Bucky woke, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he saw your frantic movements.

“Hold on Y/N where are you going?” his husky morning voice questioned.  
“I should not have slept over. Please I have to go!”

With a concerned smile Bucky put his clothes on, racing to match your actions as you were lacing your boots.

“Wait! Y/N is everything okay?”

You were conflicted; on one hand everything was amazing, last night was truly incredible but you needed to get back to the castle. Throwing your cloak on you paused to observe his sullen face.

Taking his hand you to brought it to your heart, “Everything will be okay I just need to get back,” you assured him, leaning in for a kiss. Oh how you wanted to stay there forever but you knew better and forced yourself to separate.

Bucky insisted on walking with you, holding your hand as you made your way towards the village, asking when you will see each other again. The smile on your face dropped when you heard the sound of horses pulling a carriage along the gravel road, men shouting with armor clanking as they ride.

The Royal carriage.

Bucky pulled you back from the road, curious as to why the Royal Guard would be here. You were a kitchen maid, you meant nothing to the pompous royalty.

Lord Pierce stepped out of the wagon, scowling as he stared at you and Bucky, whose arms were draped protectively over you.

“Guards,” he calmly ordered.

Sir Rumlow and a few men took aggressive steps towards you and Bucky. “Get away from her peasant.”

Rumlow pulled you away from Bucky as his men punched him in the stomach. Bucky keeled over as the guards continued to beat him, kicks to the back, punches to the face, all while you were screaming for them to stop.

“Stop! Stop this please!” you begged, as tears streamed down your face. “By the order of Princess Y/N I command you to stop!”

The guards halted their assault on Bucky, throwing him to his knees. Blood dripped down his mouth as he tried to catch his breath, wincing on every inhale from pain in his side.  _Princess._

“Princess Y/N, this man has kidnapped you,” Pierce stated.  
“You’re wrong. I came of my own free will,” you declared.

Pierce gave you a dismissive look, turning to speak to Sir Rumlow, “Put him in chains, the King shall decide his fate.”

As Bucky was walked away by the guards you mouthed an apology but he turned his cold eyes and looked away.

* * *

Your heart broke watching the guards escort Bucky to the stairwell that led to the dungeons. With a determined huff you marched towards your father’s chambers finding Lord Pierce in the hallway.

“The King has ruled on the fate of the prisoner.”  
“What? No, my father will understand when I…” you began.  
“King  _Grantham_  has decided the prisoner shall be executed at dawn,” he sneered.

Your mouth dropped open at his words. “He is no king!” you declared, pushing Pierce aside as you entered your father’s chambers.

Your heart nearly stopped at the sight of him. The color of his now gaunt face was drained as he lay in his bed, covered in his own sick.

“Father?!” you cried, running to his bedside.

He looked at you with a pained expression, as a tear slowly rolled down his cheek. You rubbed your hand along his sweaty forehead crying as you whispered, “I’m so sorry Father.”

He tried to speak but no words came out, instead he cleared his throat with a harsh cough. Lord Pierce had quietly entered the room, handing your father a cup of wine to ease the dryness of his throat. A trickle of wine spilled out from his lips. You took a napkin to wipe it gaining a better look at the small blisters that surrounded his mouth.

Taking a step back you noticed his nightstand and the vase of wilting golden flowers similar to the bouquet given to you by Prince Grantham.

Lord Pierce ushered you out of the room. “Princess your father gave his blessing on your marriage. In accordance with our law it is done. King Grantham shall be recognized as our Kingdom’s ruler.”

“No. The law is wrong. I will never marry that monster,” you spat, defiantly staring at Lord Pierce.

He chuckled lowly, turning to you with a devious smile. “Yes, my dear, you will, but fear not. You shall make a fine wife,” he remarked as your eyes widened in horror, recognizing him as the voice you overheard the other night.


	6. Chapter 6

The walk to the dungeon seemed extraordinary long, as if for every step you took forward the entrance was pushed back twice as much. It didn’t help that your feet felt heavier, weighed down by the guilt of your actions, your careless actions that hurt Bucky in more ways than one. Seeing him beaten and taken away in chains broke your heart but it was the look he gave you, the stare from his eyes, once full of love and adoration but now full of fiery contempt; that’s what hurt the most.

At the entrance of the dungeon stood a guard who was casually leaning against the stone wall. Approaching slowly you noticed his eyes were shut. With quiet footsteps you moved to pass him. Just as you entered the main room his hand shot out to grab your arm. He pulled you back and then gasped, quickly letting go.

“Princess Y/N! Wow! It’s so good to meet you!” he beamed with enthusiasm, as he knelt before you, looking up with a toothy grin. You stared at him oddly until his expression changed. Realizing what he had just done he stood up then comically dropped to his knees again, frantically begging for forgiveness.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to grab you like that! I’m so sorry!”

You thought it was strange that a man working under the merciless orders of Lord Pierce would even bother apologizing. Perhaps he is unaware of the coup. Going on that hunch you accepted his apology and smiled, proceeding to enter the dungeons however he crawled to block you.

“No one is allowed in the dungeons Princess,” he said as he stood up. “Not me, not you, not even an ant if I can help it!” he chuckled with enthusiasm. “Rumlow’s orders,” he continued, offering an awkward smile.

Instantly you could tell this man was different from the small group of men in Rumlow’s circle. Clearing your throat you asked for the guard’s name.

“Well Scott, Sir Rumlow is head of the Royal Guard but I am the Princess, ruler of our Kingdom including the Royal Guard.”

Scott bit his lip with worry as his mind wrestled with what he should do. “Of course, of course… it’s just that if Rumlow found out I could lose my job and I  _really_  need this. I have a daughter.”

You offered Scott a deal, promising not to tell anyone he dozed off as long as he didn’t tell anyone you went to see the prisoner. He happily agreed.

Your stomach churned with nerves as you entered the cold dark room. At the end of the hallway was Bucky’s cell, a small stone prison with a tiny barred window that let in a sliver of light. The bench that was normally found in other cells was removed, replaced with a handful of straw thrown haphazardly on the floor.  _How comfortable_ , you thought.

Bucky sat on the floor, the sunlight illuminating his dirty and torn tunic, with his head resting against the wall. From a distance you could see his eye was blackened and swollen with a trail of dried blood coming from his nose. In a loud whisper you called for him.

His eyes squinted open and shut again once he saw you standing at the metal gate. “Oh no,  _you_  don’t get to call me that. My  _friends_  call me Bucky,” he hissed through his teeth.

You inhaled to strengthen your resolve, this conversation was going to be more difficult than anticipated. “I’m so sorry… James, I never meant for this to happen.”

He laughed, getting up slowly and shuffling his feet on the ground as he walked towards the gate.

“Really?” he questioned rhetorically with sarcasm exuding throughout his tone. He slammed his hands against the metal gate causing you to flinch. “What did you intend then?” he snapped.

You began to speak but he cut you off, demanding why he should trust the words of a liar. Tears stung the back of your eyes but with all your might you willed yourself not to cry.

“I-I wanted… to tell you the truth,” you said, struggling with the steadiness of your voice.  
“I’m going to die because of you and your lies,” he fumed, his jaw clenched with anger as he stared at you, his eyes raging with the volatility of the sea during a storm.

You turned your head away, feeling uncomfortable by his expression. Just a few hours ago those same eyes gazed upon you like you were his shining star but now he looked at you as if you were the darkness of the sky, abandoned by light, abandoned by love.

“The truth is the day we met was the first time I left the castle since my mother’s death. The laws of our Kingdom have been pressuring me to wed and I wanted to escape the inevitable, just for a day.” You paused to look at his unchanged expression.

“I just wanted to be Y/N the villager. I wanted to meet people who would be interested in talking to me for who I am and not what I have. Then I met you, well… you met me… and saved me,” you chuckled, still looking for his features to soften.

“I never intended for us to meet but we did and I fell in love with you. I promise I will do everything I can to get you out of here.”  
“You used me!” he shouted. “You played me like the jester of your court, toying with me as if this were a game, as if my life has no value.”

“No that’s not true!”

“How can it not be? You’re betrothed!” he yelled, waving his hands up in frustration.  
“I’m being forced to marry the Prince of Hydrana. Lord Pierce, my father’s advisor, he planned this. He’s the one that…” your words were halted again by Bucky.

“Go away Y/N, leave me be to think of better thoughts than your wretched face before I die,” he spat, turning his back to you.

Your mouth remained open as you stood there in stunned silence. His cruel words hurt, drawing out your tears that cascaded down your cheeks in a steady stream. You hoped with every fiber of your being that it wasn’t easy for him to say, that his words hurt him as much as they did you. Staring at his back you mused, hoping he turned away not so he could avoid looking at you but so you could avoid looking at him.

After a few moments you found the courage to speak, filling your lungs with a deep breath first. “I don’t care what happens to me. Maybe I deserve whatever horrors Prince Grantham has in mind,” you said as your voice cracked. “But I do care about my Kingdom and its people.”

Digging into your pocket you took out a sagging yellow flower and tossed it beside him into the cell.

He turned around, looking at you with a worried expression, “Where did you get this?!” he questioned with great concern.

“So it is what I thought,” you stated.  
“Marigold of the marsh. My father died from this flower,” he sighed.  
“As will mine,” you attempted to say but broke down crying instead.

Grabbing the metal gate for support, you brought your other hand to cover your eyes. They were screwed tight, your face wrenched with anguish as you thought of your father’s condition. He was a shell of his former self, now frail and weak; if only he could hold on a little longer.

The touch of a warm hand on yours startled you. Bucky was rubbing his hand on yours through the gate. You looked at him with reddened eyes, a lump bubbling in your throat, “I can’t lose him,” you wept.

“Mandrake root, a bushel of horehound and ginger. Steep them in boiling vinegar and…” he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip, “And wish upon the stars that it’s not too late,” he said, offering a tight lipped smile.

“Thank you James. Despite what you believe I will do everything I can to free you,” you said, turning on your heel to walk away.

“It’s Bucky,” he called out.

You turned around to find him leaning against the gate, his angelic smile returned to bless his beautiful face again. Running back to him you paused for a moment to look into his eyes, they were calm and steady, restoring his warm and loving features once more.

“For you, it’s always Bucky,” he murmured.

You took his hands into your own, rubbing the warmth of your palm onto his cold fingers. Bucky threaded his fingers through yours, pulling himself close to the gate, his eyes darting down to your lips and back up again to your eyes. He leaned forward and you mimicked his actions, your lips pressing together, ignoring the uncomfortable metal pressing against your cheek. The kiss was hurried but no less full of passion. As your lips separated you pressed a kiss to his hand one last time, vowing to keep your promise.

* * *

Repeating the ingredients in your head you rushed down to the kitchens in a frenzied whirlwind. You came crashing through the doors, disturbing the otherwise quiet workspace of ladies kneading flour or chopping vegetables. You scanned the room looking for Pepper’s mother. Knowing trust was scarce you were wary about trusting many people but in a short amount of time you had come to think of Mrs. Potts as a motherly figure, believing she would be trustworthy and discreet in your time of need.

Pulling her aside gave her the ingredients needed for the concoction, feeling relief in being able to help your father. Your dreams were knocked away as she informed you about the lack of mandrake. Sir Rumlow had destroyed that part of the garden the other day, his horse  _supposedly_  had gotten out of control and trampled the plants to a fine dust.

Mrs. Potts took you in her arms, rubbing your back as you stained her tunic with tears. She demanded Pepper to find Wanda for you. Wanda entered the kitchen and began to spurt out questions asking what happened but you cut her off, you had to.

“Wanda please you must leave to find mandrake root, as much as you can!” you begged.

She nodded promising she would hurry back. You hugged her tightly, wanting nothing more than to go with her but you couldn’t leave your father or Bucky. You had disappeared for long enough today. While Wanda is on her journey to help your father you had to work to save Bucky, though you weren’t sure how.

You made use of the passageways, sneaking back to your room and quickly changed your clothes into a more formal dress. Though you had not cared who saw you in commoner’s attire if you were to make any headway with Prince Grantham you would have to dress appropriately.

Opening your door you found two of Sir Rumlow’s guards flanked on either side. They sneered as you moved passed them, hearing their footsteps echo behind you as you made your way to the Prince’s chambers. As you moved through a long hallway you gazed down to the open court below, seeing the gallows being prepared for the execution. You swallowed a gulp, fearing for Bucky’s safety.

Sir Rumlow stood guard outside Grantham’s chamber. He squinted his beady eyes at you, smirking with cocky delight. Stepping inside the room you feigned a smile, knowing you would have to play the game Lord Pierce had constructed.

Prince Grantham stood in front of a mirror admiring himself in as the squire Peter stood nervously beside him, with piles of clothing draped over his outreached arms.

“Ahh Princess Y/N,” Grantham spoke with an air of enthusiasm, “What do you think of this?” he gestured to his golden paisley patterned doublet, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror.  
“It fits you well my Prince,” you said, struggling to keep down the rising nausea you felt.

Prince Grantham dismissed Peter to leave and turned around, “Don’t you mean Your Majesty?” A wide grin appeared on his face.

You apologized and barely formed a smile as you stared back at him.

“I thought we might walk together Princess and clear the air of some things,” he said.

Prince Grantham took your hand and roughly looped it through his arm as you walked through the halls.

“I understand you were found in the village this morning,” he began, his soft tone made him almost sound like he cared, but you knew better.

With a firm but gentle tone you replied, “Yes, and I’m afraid there has been some confusion. The man taken prisoner is merely a friend, he has committed no crime and I wish him to be set free.”

He paused for a moment, as if to prove to you he was actually considering your request before speaking. “I will not allow it. My kingdom must be strong. If any peasant thinks they can consort with royalty the price must be paid.”

You were running out of time to think of another plan. Grantham’s voice became dull background noise as you tried to think of ways to help Bucky. Perhaps Lord Coulson could do something.

You were too preoccupied in your thoughts to realize Grantham had walked you to the dungeons. Scott stood guard, wide awake and standing up straight. You subtly gave him a knowing look and he kept his composure, looking straight ahead with a stiff nod to Prince Grantham as he passed.

Unlike this morning the cells were now occupied. Rumlow’s men had been to work, rounding up anyone that might pose as a threat to Lord Pierce and Prince Grantham. The cell to your right contained Lord Coulson; there goes your plan. You suppose his initial suspicions of Pierce are what got him locked away. The next cell contained Clinton, Grantham’s attendant and you wondered why he was there. To your left was the kitchen servant Peggy, no doubt detained because of her outspoken honesty that Grantham clearly wishes to abolish. Seeing your friends locked away made you worry for Wanda, hoping she could make it back to the castle unseen, for her own sake and your father’s.

You passed other cells before heading down to the end of the cold hallway where Bucky was kept. Light from the window was creeping away as the sun began to set. Your heart broke watching him shivering in the corner, rubbing his arms for warmth.

Grantham cleared his throat and Bucky looked up, feeling happy and sad at the same time seeing you. Though you looked beautiful your features never attempted to hide the truth, the man with you was clearly not there to help. Grantham wrapped his arms around you from behind, one on your waist and the other snaking under your chin, applying the slightest bit of uncomfortable pressure.

A choked cry escaped your mouth as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t think I am unaware of your actions with this peasant you whore,” he spat.

Bucky rushed to the gates, shaking the metal bars though they did not budge. You were out of his reach, the best he could do is mercifully beg the Prince not to hurt you. Grantham smirked at the request, choosing to ignore Bucky.

Grantham spoke louder this time, “The prisoner shall be hanged and I will force you to watch. I want the images of your lover’s death burned in your mind. You will regret the day you’ve made a fool of me,” he huffed.

Your eyes watered, wordlessly pleading for Bucky and trying not to sob. Grantham turned you to face him and pressed his lips on yours, they burned like poison touching your skin. With a powerful grasp he held your arms down so you could not fight him off as his forced his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes shot open as you saw he was goading Bucky with his actions.

Grantham began to roughly drag you away from the dungeons as Bucky called out for you. You shouted words of affection back, angering Grantham who shoved you to the ground. Scott began to lean down to help you up before he was stopped by Rumlow. He took his orders but struggled to maintain a stoic facade.

Rumlow and another guard picked you up, their large arms wrapped around either side of you.

“Don’t think you can run off again,” Grantham scolded you, pointing his finger in your face. “It’s given me great pleasure to know your secret passageway is no more.”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, shaking your head back and forth incredulously.

“Yes Y/N, we know about the passage that lets off in the woods. It’s being destroyed so you cannot run off to your filthy village anymore!” Grantham grabbed your face forcing you to stare at his evil smirk, “Sleep well my love, the fun is just beginning.” He pushed you away, nodding to Rumlow and you were dragged to your chambers.

One guard entered first, examining the walls until he found the servant’s entrance, taking his post inside the hidden corridor to monitor visitors and ensure you could not sneak away. Two more guards stood outside your door, making sure you were trapped.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, knowing you failed your father and Bucky.

The morning birds began to sing as the dark blue sky gradually lightened. Your head pounded, still heavy and reeling from a long night of seemingly endless tears. You wanted to scream at the pair of hands that were shaking you awake. One eye squinted open seeing the silhouette of a woman with long hair.

“Wanda?!” you desperately asked.

You got up quickly and the candlelight revealed otherwise, it was Darcy.

“I’m sorry Princess, no one has seen her,” she regretfully said.

Darcy was approved to tend to you. Prince Grantham requesting that you were dressed in the highest fashion for the “celebration” as he put it. You sat, numbly staring at the wall as Darcy styled your hair. The Guards opened the door and Prince Grantham stood waiting for you. Darcy gave a tight lipped smile in response to your melancholy expression as you were escorted away.

The morning light began to rise over the crowd of people who came to watch the execution. They cheered for you and your betrothed, unaware of the horrible truths happening within the castle walls. Grantham nudged your back, telling you to smile and wave to your people through gritted teeth. You complied, barely holding back the tears that formed as you painstakingly pulled your lips into a smile.

You felt ill thinking about why people enjoyed such displays, and even more so as Grantham squirmed in his seat with excitement. He was the sickest man of all, taking pleasure in the death of others. Though you couldn’t be sure if Lord Pierce tied him for that title, as he stood beside Prince Grantham looking just as pleased.

Grantham gripped your arm with force, locking it into place in his lap. As he pulled you close to him he excitedly spoke, “My darling, it slipped my mind to tell you the good news.”

You looked at him with a plain expression, knowing his idea of good was certain to be twisted. He brought his lips to your ear, feeling his hot breath on your skin made you shiver with disgust.

Though he spoke in a whisper you could hear the smile come through with his words. “Your father is dead!”

You gasped. It can’t be.

With an evil smirk he told you that he woke up with a message from Rumlow’s guards. “Two deaths in one day, how exciting!” He fisted his hand and shook it with excitement. He was actually celebrating, the monster.

Grantham squealed with delight. “I feel the blood coursing through my veins. Perhaps I should ravish you right here. My seed is strong now, I can feel it. Perhaps we shall do it next to your father’s corpse. Would you like that?”  

You did not respond, instead closing your eyes as tears slowly streamed down your face. Holding your composure you sat there as anger and sadness swirled like a tornado within you. You couldn’t wield a sword and you would certainly not fare well in a fight against many but it was decided. You’ve lost your father. You were about to lose Bucky. You would not go down without a fight.

The sound of the crowd riling up stirred you from your meditation. Bucky was walked out by Rumlow’s guards trailed by a strong figure donning a black mask over his face and wielding a heavy sword.

“I thought he was to be hanged!” you exclaimed.  
“I changed my mind. I want your lover’s head mounted on your wall instead,” he laughed, as a sinister grin took hold of his features.

Bucky’s hair blanketed his face as he was forced to his knees. You whimpered with discomfort, squirming in your seat.

“One more sound out of you and you’ll pay for it,” Grantham seethed, tightening his grip on your arm.

Bucky picked his head up, scanning the crowd to find you. His saddened eyes met your terrified gaze, he mouthed “I love you” and your face burst into silent tears.

The hooded man drew up his sword and Bucky looked down again. Your eyes shut tight, unable to watch the horror. The loud gasp from the crowd told you what happened.


	7. Chapter 7

As the crowd gasped in horror your head tilted down, keeping your eyes shut tight. You never want to open them again, unable to bear seeing a world without Bucky in it. A light sheen of sweat coats your forehead as you take shallow breaths, fighting the urge to pass out.

“No!!” Grantham screamed, as you felt him violently rise from the chair next to you.

You looked up to find the executioner, sword in hand with the blade through the throat one of the guards. Blood sprayed out of the man’s neck coating the wooden platform while the other guards looked on in shock before hastily unsheathing their weapons. The executioner pulled his sword from the man whose body dropped like a heavy sack of bricks. The guards lined up in a defensive stance, ready to attack the executioner that stood protecting Bucky who was very much alive.

The crowd screamed and began to disperse in a frenzied manner, people roughly pushing each other out of the way to leave. It was terrible to watch especially when an older man was trampled to the ground. You couldn’t do anything to help, not when you were surrounded by Grantham, Pierce and Rumlow.

The sound of metal clanking against metal resonated throughout the courtyard as the executioner fought the guards. He was able to fight two at a time, finding a balanced rhythm between swinging the blade and fierce kicks, but as Rumlow called for more guards to join you knew he didn’t have much more of a chance.

Two men rushed to the platform, momentarily worrying you before you recognized them. Your eyes beamed with joy as Samuel drew his sword, joining the fight alongside the hooded figure. Anthony went to Bucky, releasing him from the binding around his hands.

The men were distracted as Anthony was arming Bucky with a sword, unaware of the guard sneaking up behind them. They turned around at the sound of the thud the body made collapsing to the ground with an arrow lodged in his ear. You turned to see Clinton perched above you from a balcony, pulling arrows from his quiver and releasing them with rapid fire precision.

The four men on the platform stood together after taking out the guards, their nostrils flared as they sucked in as much oxygen to their overworked lungs. The executioner removed his hood revealing himself to be Steven, his hair sticking up in every way as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Rumlow called for more guards, they followed him lining up across from the group on the platform, the courtyard now cleared of villagers. Bucky’s eyes found yours with relief shining through them. You returned a bittersweet smile, wishing the fighting would stop. Bucky’s life was spared once, you could not guarantee luck would stay by his side, but you desperately wished you could be. You tried to sneak away once Rumlow left but Grantham pulled you back, gripping your arm so tight he was sure to leave a mark.

Everyone’s weapons were drawn before they charged at each other, their war cries turning into grunts as they fought.   
You chewed your lip with worry watching the scene unfold, audibly cheering when Steven and Bucky knocked Rumlow to the ground, much to the disdainful look of Prince Grantham.

As Rumlow and his guards were taken out Grantham stomped his feet like a child having a tantrum. He turned to Lord Pierce, cursing and whining about needing more men to fight for him. When he learned these were the only men left he demanded Lord Pierce join the battle. Grantham’s cheek was met with a firm backhand by the older man. The shocked look on his face was marvelous; you had to bite your tongue to stop from celebrating for your own safety but nevertheless it was a truly incredible thing to witness.

Pierce fidgeted in his seat as the odds dwindled for Rumlow and his men. When they were outnumbered Pierce took off without saying anything. Steven and Bucky were occupied with Rumlow so Anthony and Samuel took off after the older man.

Grantham was raging, abandoned by his mentor, without protection, he was alone. Despite being in the open courtyard it felt like the walls were closing in around him and he had no way out. He turned his head, realizing he was wrong. He had you, believing there was a way he could still have it all.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he dragged you back inside the castle. You screamed for Bucky, kicking your legs and squirming to be free of Grantham’s hold. Bucky swept his sweat drenched locks from his face, watching as you were pulled away. He looked at Steven who nodded back, wordlessly telling him he was more than capable to finish his fight with Rumlow as Clinton continued to take out the remaining guards.

Bucky ran in the direction you were taken and saw Prince Grantham disappear through a door. Pushing his tired legs he took long strides until he got to the door, grunting in frustration when it wouldn’t open. Taking a few steps back he ran again, trying to force the door open with the weight of his body thrust upon it. He screamed through the pain of his bruised arm and tried again until finally the door flew open.

Prince Grantham heard the commotion from the end of the hallway. He pulled your back to his chest holding his sword at your throat, as he readily awaited whoever followed him. Bucky stopped when the glint at your throat caught his eye, lowering his sword as he took slow steps towards you.

“Don’t!” Grantham shouted, the reverberation causing his hand to shake dangerously with the weapon. “One more step and I’ll do it. I don’t need her! Word has spread throughout the Kingdom of our intended marriage. I am King now!”

Despite the sword in his hand Bucky felt helpless. Whether he attacked Grantham or not either way you would end up hurt. You read the sorrow in his eyes and found the courage to do something, knowing you would not go down without trying. You swallowed a harsh lump, feeling the edge of the blade press into your skin even more.

“You are nothing but a pawn. Pierce is the true master of this game,” you grit through your teeth. “Always doing what he tells you. You think you are his equal but you’ll never be.”

Grantham tilted his head towards you, bringing the unpleasant sound of his teeth grinding closer. You felt his heart rate quicken and decided to call out his cowardly actions further.

“If you want to be the king then act like a king. Even in his worst state my father would fight rather than be a coward like you!”

“I am no coward,” Grantham spat.

As he lowered his sword from your neck, his other hand palmed the back of your head, pushing you forward with a rough slam into the stone wall. Bucky called your name out as you fell to the ground, groaning.

“Face me you filthy peasant!” Grantham screamed, wildly charging at Bucky with his sword drawn.

Bucky raised his sword in time to block Grantham’s strike. The unhinged Prince swung from every angle but Bucky blocked each time, the clanking metal echoed throughout the hallway with every hit. The men broke apart, momentarily pointing their swords at each other and adjusting their sweaty grips before resuming.

Bucky took the first strike, thankful he was skilled with a sword and not just in crafting them. Lunging forward with his blade he was able to knock the sword away from Grantham and back him against the wall. Grantham’s hands were up in defeat against the stone as Bucky pointed the tip of the blade at his throat.

You began to stir, moaning as you grabbed your head. As Bucky’s eyes darted to check on you Grantham pulled an unlit torch from the wall, smashing it against the side of Bucky’s head with a hard thwack. Bucky dropped to the ground. Grantham stepped over him, picking up his sword as he trudged towards you.

“If you will not be mine,” he huffed, “You will be no one’s.”

Grantham raised his sword above his head, his crazed eyes and devilish grin terrified you in what was sure to be your final moment. You turned your head, raising your arm up to block the oncoming blade. Suddenly Bucky came running towards Grantham who turned around mid swing and was tackled down.

Bucky screamed in pain as they hit the ground. The sword slipped from Grantham’s hand, sitting just out of reach and both men struggled for it. Bucky hovered above Grantham, punching him with ever tiring fists. Though your head felt wobbly you forced yourself to get up to hand Bucky the sword.

Grantham saw you moving. As Bucky’s fist came down the Prince moved his head, returning a jab to Bucky’s nose. You rushed past the men and fell to your stomach as a rough hand grabbed your leg pulling you down. Your knee ached from your unexpected landing.

Grantham let out an exhausted chuckle as he grabbed your ankles to flip you to your back. As soon as he did the smile wiped from his face, looking down in surprise to see the sword impaled through his chest, following the blade to the hilt and seeing your hands wrapped around it.

His body fell forward crashing on top of you. You shrieked while struggling to push him off. Bucky stood up and gave you a hand to help pull you from the body whose blood was now pooling underneath him.

A wide grin spread across your face as you threw your arms around Bucky who hissed in pain. You scanned his body, seeing a red welt on his temple, a bloody nose and the gash on his shoulder where the blood had soaked through his tunic.

“You’ve nearly lost your arm!” you cried.  
“I nearly lost you,” he said, with a bittersweet smile, running his thumb along a red abrasion on your forehead. 

Bucky’s right hand palmed your lower back bringing you close to him. He gazed upon you, smiling wider this time before capturing your lips with his own. You didn’t want your lips to separate but when you felt warm wetness spill onto your collar you knew his wound needed attention.

Bucky slid down the wall until he reached the floor. You carefully removed his sleeve, ripping material off the end of your dress to make a tourniquet around his left shoulder. You secured the dressing with a tight knot, cupping Bucky’s cheek in your hand before pressing your lips to his again.

You were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Your heart raced, scanning the room for a weapon until you saw it was Steven standing near you, apologizing for the disruption. Steven helped Bucky stand, informing you both that Rumlow and his guards were dead. Anthony and Samuel had also returned with the body of Lord Pierce who upon being cornered by the two men swallowed something and collapsed.

You wondered what Pierce poisoned himself with, if it was derived from the same flower that was used on your father. Suddenly you remembered what Grantham said, your father had died. You explained to Bucky and Steven you needed to see him and say goodbye. You laced your fingers with Bucky’s, knowing you needed him by your side to do the impossible.

Steven walked with you to your father’s chambers. Outside the door stood a guard, Steven unsheathed his sword ready to attack before the guard put his hands up screaming in defense.

“Scott?” you questioned.  
“Y-yes Princess,” he said still quivering in fear from an impending attack.

You motioned for Steven to put his sword away. Turning back to Scott you asked what he was doing.

“Protecting your father,” he said proudly.

Your jaw dropped in surprise, “W-what? He’s alive?”

Scott nodded, opening the door for the three of you. Inside you saw your father sitting in bed with the color returned to his face and Wanda beside him, cooling his forehead with a soaked rag.

“I cannot believe it!” you exclaimed running across the room to your father’s bedside, wanting to hug both of them at once.

“Father, you’re alive!” you cried, taking his hand in yours as tears streamed down your cheeks. You turned to face Wanda asking for her to fill you in on the missing details.  
“I sought out help,” she said, smiling as she nodded towards Steven.

She continued explaining Samuel provided the mandrake and Anthony joined, bringing weapons from the shop to help fight off Rumlow’s guards.

“But the passageway. They told me it was destroyed.”

Wanda sighed, “And it was but there was a second one. It hadn’t been used in many years and it took a while for us to get through the rubble and overgrown foliage. It led us to the dungeons where we found Scott.”

“I’m sorry Princess,” Scott interjected. “When I saw how you were treated by Rumlow I should have done something then. I hope by helping your friends and freeing the prisoners you would find it in your heart to forgive me,” he said, kneeling before you.

You forgave Scott, realizing he had purposely misinformed Prince Grantham of your father’s death in order to protect him. Wanda explained that once she was back in the castle she took the ingredients straight to your father’s chambers, providing him with the remedy.

“I could not send word to you my lady, I’m so sorry,” she began to apologize.

You shushed Wanda, pulling her into a firm embrace as you cried, “Wanda I do not deserve you. You are the bravest, kindest and most trustworthy friend I have. I love you so much.”

“Your friends took great risks in helping our Kingdom,” your father’s raspy voice spoke.

Bucky stood beside Steven, smiling as he watched you kneel at your father’s side. He did his best to suppress his discomfort, his shoulder wound was radiating with a stinging pain.

Your father’s arm shook as he reached his still weak hand out to touch your cheek. “I am so sorry this happened Y/N,” he regretfully sighed. “I was a fool to trust Pierce.”

“The traitors are dead Your Majesty,” Steven spoke, dropping to one knee to kneel before your father.

Bucky wobbled as he dropped to his knees, nearly falling over. You ran to his side, begging Scott to send word for help. Bucky’s tense face softened when he looked into your eyes. Your father observed you tending to Bucky with care as you pulled a chair next to him, cupping his cheek as he leaned into your palm.

Your father groaned slightly as he sat up straighter catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“You and your friends saved my daughter and this kingdom. I thank you all,” your father spoke, staring at Bucky who arose quickly from the chair. “I owe you a great deal young man. Is there anything you wish for? The Royal Guard has many openings.”

Bucky’s lips pulled into a terse smile before he gathered his thoughts to respond. “I am honored by your generous offer Your Majesty. It would be an honor to serve you, but I cannot accept that position.”

Your father was puzzled by his reply. Bucky turned to face you, his blue eyes began to water as he continued, “I’m afraid the one thing I wish for cannot be granted. Though I have no riches my heart is overflowing in wealth with love for your daughter.”

Tears flooded your eyes as Bucky took your hand and pressed it to his chest near his heart. “And it would pain me too much to see Y/N every day on the arm of another.”

Your father observed you both with an expressionless look. “Y/N, do you love this man?” he questioned.

You answered with confidence as your thumb brushed away tears that fell on Bucky’s cheek, “With all my heart father.”

“Young man,” your father directed his comment at Steven, “Do you believe a King should act in the best interest of his people?”  
“Always, Your Majesty.”

Taking in a deep breath into his lungs, your father felt renewed on his exhale. “Then it is done. From this day forth the Princess shall marry whomever she wishes, for love.”

Your father smiled at the synchronized turning of heads as you and Bucky stared at him. You questioned your father if he meant it, needing to make sure you were not dreaming his response. Steven smiled at Wanda who wiped away tears of joy from her eyes.

Bucky went to your father’s side, offering his gratitude with a handshake, but your father pulled him down for an unexpected hug, careful of his wounded arm. You hugged your father afterwards and left his embrace for Bucky’s, sealing your future with a kiss, one of many more to come.


	8. Chapter 8

Many things changed over the next year. While recuperating your father made the decision to abdicate his title, ascending you to the throne. He wanted to focus on his recovery, insisting he needed to be in the fullest of health for when the giggling sounds of his grandchildren filled the castle halls. Not that you were ready by any means but he was still excited at the prospect. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that might take some time.

Your relationship with Bucky slowed considerably since taking on your new responsibilities but you made time to see each other for a few hours each night, spending time under the stars truly getting to know each other without the falsehood of your true identity holding you back.

Every day you fell further in love with Bucky and wishing him farewell each night seemed a more difficult task to accomplish. His sweet goodnight kisses electrified your body, your heart fluttered madly like a bird in a cage begging to be set free. Nevertheless you were responsible, seeing him off instead of dragging him inside your chambers and fighting his tongue for dominance as you desperately attempted to shed your clothing.  _But oh how you dreamed of that._  Instead you slept alone, your mind unable to focus on rest as your title came with many issues that needed attention.

The Kingdom was in disarray after Lord Pierce’s meddling, and a lot of your time was spent on rebuilding the trust of those living in the kingdom. Though your father was no longer King he would still serve as part of your Royal Council along with Lord Coulson, Steven and Scott, who would serve as heads of the new Royal Guard (Scott’s endearing enthusiasm was a welcomed change from the former cold and stoic sentry) and finally the newly titled Lady Wanda. There was no hesitation on your behalf when offering her a position in the group, she had more than proved her intelligence and value to you and this Kingdom and you were so proud of her.

Royalty from all over the lands came for your coronation. As you were crowned Queen Y/N your eyes found Bucky staring at you with a proud smile. Your first official duty as Queen was to address your Kingdom. The cool breeze went straight to your bones and you shivered slightly as you made your way in front of the crowd. The intricately jeweled crown balanced on your head, its heavy weight adding to pit of nerves in your stomach.

Some had scoffed at the idea of changing the laws and handing the power of the kingdom to a woman, especially one who is not married (or in their view, one who does not have a man to control her actions). Change was unwelcome and fear of the unknown fueled rumors to spread about your illicit relationship with Bucky, how you “spied” on the villagers and more gruesome details about the murder of Prince Grantham.  

You needed to gain the trust of your villagers, knowing this would be a difficult task, but you were strong and so with a deep inhale you spoke with the grace and poise of a Queen yet the deferential kind manner of a friend. You believed in honesty, your actions with Bucky proved the harsh consequences of keeping secrets, and so you were transparent with your information, informing your people of the conspiracy with Lord Pierce and Prince Grantham of Hydrana to poison the former King and wed you in order to seize control of the Kingdom.

Audible gasps spread throughout the crowd. You continued speaking over the increased chatter with a firm and proud voice, informing them of the changes you sought to implement. Worry spread through the faces of the villagers as they wondered what you would say. To them you were just another ruler and they your subjects, but they would soon learn the truth of your character.

Though you only had brief encounters with some the villagers during your visits you found they were very similar to the hard workers of the castle staff. You set time aside to meet with everyone in the castle from house maids and kitchen staff, to the stable-master and even the nervous squires, wishing to learn their true opinion on the Kingdom, their quality of life and how things could be improved upon.

As you brought your findings to the Royal Council you were not oblivious to the wide grin your father wore as he watched you speak. From the beginning you had always challenged the rules, growing up a precocious and albeit a little stubborn, but the truth was he believed you to be far braver than he ever was. Where he followed the path laid out for him you made your own and he couldn’t be prouder.

Clearing your throat you steadied your voice, declaring that taxes would henceforth be lowered dramatically. Lord Coulson had done further research into the matter, discovering that Pierce had been overtaxing the village to funnel more money to Hydrana than previously disclosed. Frowns turned around as the crowd cheered for the good news.

Your own mouth pulled into a satisfied smirk as you recalled a memory, adamantly fighting with your governess and demanding Wanda be included in your studies. You knew the importance of an education so you were in contact with the brightest minds that would help share their knowledge of reading, sciences and the language of numbers. You proudly announced your next proclamation, to establish a house of learning that would be free to everyone.

You glanced at Wanda, sharing proud smiles at the crowd’s reaction. Some wiped tears from their cheeks while others lifted small children to their shoulders, their tiny arms waving in celebration. Bucky stood tall beside her, grinning widely as he applauded though you could see the tension in his clenched jaw. Beneath his doublet his arm was still bandaged and causing him pain.

Scott had found the Royal Healer, a quiet but gentle natured man named Bruce, to tend to Bucky’s wound. In time he would heal but not without an angry scar, a permanent reminder of the damage caused by Hydrana. You were indebted to Bruce, thankful Bucky’s arm did not detach, not that you would have loved him any less.

After spending time with him you learned Bruce’s passion for taking care of others started when he was young. His mother was frequently ill and his father was unable to afford the elixirs that would help heal her. So he experimented with herbs and plants, making his own tonics that never fully cured his mother but gave her a better way to manage her illness.

Bruce nearly became a different person when he raged about the injustice his family and many others go through when it comes to health. So it was with his help that you would set out to change this, announcing that Bruce will be setting up a cottage in the village to provide care to all, with treatment being within everyone’s means. You’ve also united with neighboring Kingdoms to have their healers share knowledge so that all people have the best opportunities for better health.

Your smile slowly faded as the cheering naturally slowed, everyone eagerly awaiting your next proclamation, though this time you could not offer a definitive decree, just a promise. It was no secret that Hydrana has declared war against the Kingdom in response to the murder of Prince Grantham. It was a scary prospect for all however you assured your people that you would do all you could to protect them. All of your neighboring kingdoms supported you from Sokovia all the way to the distant Wakanda, who were eager to put an end to the plague known as Hydrana.

In truth it was an empty threat they would never follow through with. Hydrana was a failing kingdom, too prideful to change their extravagant customs and without the income Pierce had been supplying they would soon crumble. Still, you were unwavering in your returned threat to the vile kingdom, promising they would become a faded memory as you would wipe them of existence if they so much as tried to cross you again.

Your coronation ended with a grand ball, mixing nobles and foreign leaders with the people of your village. Music was flowing throughout the air and you made your way to greet every person, trailed by Steven who dutifully scanned the room for threats.

“I hope you intend to pay for that,” you joked, as a short man nearly spat out his apple tart.

Henry blushed and panicked, quickly kneeling before you though you asked him to stand, assuring the merchant to enjoy the celebration, though you noted to yourself to speak with him about the new laws for the penalty of stealing.

Bucky waited patiently as you mingled with the crowd, sitting beside your father as he continued to get to know him. He was very intimidated, not because he was conversing with the former King, but because he was your father and his future father-in-law he one day hoped.

Your feet were aching as you danced all night, with Anthony who was in good spirits after being appointed the new armorer to King T’Challa and other royalty. A soft voice politely asked to interrupt your dance and you couldn’t deny the request. Bucky was dressed in a fancy doublet that brought out the blue of his eyes, his hair was tied back and pulled into a small bun at the base of his neck and a beautiful smile graced his face as he took your hand in his, with one arm on your back and glided with you across the floor. You asked him to spend the night and it felt like a dream falling asleep in his embrace once more.

A few months later he officially moved in to the castle and you were more than thrilled to have him by your side each night. Once the stress of the coronation passed and you adapted to your role as Queen your previously occupied mind had dug up unpleasant memories. Each night you were plagued with nightmares, reliving the horror of Prince Grantham’s final day. Despite every terrible thing he had done taking his life haunted you but Bucky was there for each scream that woke you, gently caressing your back as he placed sweet kisses on your sweat covered forehead until you relaxed enough to let sleep take you again.

* * *

Sitting at your vanity a soft knock rapped at the door and from the reflection you saw Wanda enter your bedchamber. You greeted her hello as you combed through your hair.

“Here, let me,” Wanda said, taking the brush from your hand.

You insisted she stopped, having practically eliminated the role for a handmaid, though you kept everyone on staff, but Wanda ignored you and brushed through your hair regardless of your protests claiming she wanted to do it.

As Wanda pinned your locks in place you smiled watching your best friend through the mirror. She looked beautiful, wearing a beautiful satin gown that matched the emerald of her eyes.

“Wanda, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you said, continuing after she made a small verbal acknowledgment. “How come you never told me about the second passageway into the castle?”

Wanda laughed, “It was hard enough keeping you in the castle with one path. I’d be mad to let you know of another!” she said with a beaming smile.

Wanda helped secure the last accessories in your hair. As you stood up you took a final glance at yourself, smiling as Wanda commented on how beautiful you looked.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

The sting of tears flooded your eyes so you tilted your head back and quickly fanned your hand until they dissipated. You smiled and with a deep inhale you were ready.

Bucky waited with anticipation, running his fingers through his newly shortened hair and shifting his weight on each foot as his nervous mind conjured up anxious thoughts. Steven stood by his side, placing a firm grip on Bucky’s shoulder, a comforting gesture for his friend to let him know he had nothing to worry about.

Wanda walked you to the sitting room beside the Great Hall, hugging you tightly before leaving you with your father. Standing in front of the portrait of your mother he turned to face you with unshed tears in his eyes, the sight brought your own back to the surface.

“Your mother would be so proud of the strong woman you’ve become,” his shaky voice cracked.

With that your tears spilled down your cheek and you sniffled, wiping your nose with your hand in a very uncouth manner. You both chuckled at your actions, taking in a few more deep breaths before nodding that you were ready.

Music filled the Great Hall and the guests stood awaiting your arrival. As the large doors to opened you saw Bucky standing at the end of the aisle, his bright smile shining through like rays of the sun. Taking your hand from his arms your father placed it in Bucky’s hand, with a loving smile as he stepped back for the ceremony.

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip that quivered with emotion as he stared at his beautiful bride. When it was time to declare your love for each other Bucky spoke first, staring into your eyes as he rubbed his thumbs along your fingers in his hand, hoping to quell his bubbling nerves.

“My darling Y/N. The heavens were smiling on us when we were brought together. You are my shining star, the light in an otherwise dark world. I promise to love you each day and be worthy of your love. You hold my heart today and forever.”

By the end of his vows you were both crying, though he reached his hand out to wipe away the tears from your cheek. You held his hand with a firmer grip as you steadied your voice before speaking.

“James… my Bucky,” you began, smiling as you focused on the deep blue of his eyes. “You are the sunshine at first light filling me with warmth. You are the moonlight in the evenings, baring your soul in the shimmering light. I promise to love and cherish you each day wherever our journey takes us. You hold my heart today and forever.”

With rings exchanged you smiled, waiting for the moment to seal the ceremony. Your lips pressed to Bucky’s, molding to his soft lips as if they were created for each other, a puzzle meant for you alone. The crowd cheered for you, Wanda smiling as she cried next to Samuel. Your lips separated and for a moment you continued to stare in each other’s eyes, focused only on each other.

* * *

Standing just before the balcony opening you turned to look, briefly panicking to not find Bucky at your side. Turning around you saw him standing a few paces behind you.

“Bucky!” you playfully called.  
“Sorry, I was just admiring my beautiful wife,” he proudly said, walking next to you.

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to speak but he beat you to it, “I love you Y/N.”  
“I love you too,” you said, overcome with joy as you kissed him once more. “Shall we?” you questioned placing your hand out.

Bucky wrapped your hand under his arm and you walked through a curtain onto the balcony decorated in an array of flowers overlooking the massive crowd. Cheers rang out as you made your official appearance together as husband and wife; Bucky and Y/N, the Queen that married for love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. I have been in love with this idea since its inception where it started out as a really long outline on my phone's notes until I could write it. Also, I based the poison on something real, marsh marigold, aka “kingcup” the name Pierce technically asks for in an earlier chapter. The antidote is obviously made up but I used ingredients found in other medieval antidotes and elixirs.


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